Category Sexing the Body

Gender Systems: Toward a The ory of Human Sexuality

i. Sterling 1934, 1933. A number of scholars took the time to read and critique an earlier draft of this chapter. They of course bear no responsibility for its final condition, but they do deserve my heartfelt thanks: Liz Grosz, John Modell, Cynthia Garcia-Coll, Robert Perlman, Lundy Braun, Peter Tay­lor, Roger Smith, and Susan Oyama.

2 . Sterling 1970.

3. For example, perhaps her genetic makeup synchronized with her envi­ronment, and thus both pushed in the same direction. Or, what if she had wanted to dress in pink and hated the woods? Could any amount of maternal pressure have parted her from her Betsy Wetsy? Then again, what if she had grown up in New York City, born of parents who had little curiosity about how the natural world works? Would her inner scientist have suffered the fate of Shakespeare’s sister, described with such sadness by Virginia Woolf in A Room of One’s Own? There is no way to sort out these possibilities, and thus the speculation about origins always remains, as with the corpus callosum debate, as much in the political realm as in the scientific.

4. See, for example, Money and Ehrhardt 1972; Zucker and Bradley 1995.

3. Dewey and Bentley 1949 ,p. 69.

6. The philosopher Alfred North Whitehead writes: ‘‘the notion of ‘or­ganism’ has two meanings. . . the microscopic meaning and the macroscopic meaning. The microscopic meaning is concerned with… a process of realiz­ing an individual unity of experience. The macroscopic meaning is concerned with the givenness of the actual world. . . the stubborn fact which at once limits and provides opportunity for the actual occasion. … In our experi­ence we essentially arise out of our bodies which are the stubborn facts of the immediate relevant past’’ (Whitehead 1929, p.129). Like a number of biologists (Waddington 1973; Gottlieb 1997), I find Whitehead’s process phi­losophy the most appropriate way to think about organisms. For more on Whitehead, see Kraus 1979.

7. Hubbard and Wald 1993; Lewontin et al. 1984; Lewontin 1992.

8. Crichton 1990.

9. Hubbard and Wald 1993.

10. Hamer etal. i993,pp. 321, 326. Rice et al. (1999) have been unable to repeat the finding that places it among a large number of genetic claims about complex behavior that continue to be in dispute.

11. Pool 1993,p. 291.

12. Anonymous 1993a; Anonymous 1993b.

13. A workshop of behavioral scientists that focused on the question ‘‘How do genes set up behavior?’’ wrote that future work will lead to the conclusion that ‘‘gene products are but a minute fraction of the total number of behavioral determinants. A second, small fraction will be identifiable as relatively straightforward environmental factors. Most importantly, however, the vast majority of deterministic factors will reside in the multitude of as yet unpredictable interactions between genetic and environmental factors.’’ While this group still uses the language of interactionism, their results and conclusions suggest strongly that dynamic systems will provide the better path to understanding relationships between genes and behavior (Greenspan and Tully 1993, p. 79)-

14. There are four kinds of bases that, when grouped together three at a time, can signal the cell to bring a particular amino acid to a structure called a ribosome, which is itself made up of several proteins and a different kind of gene product called ribosomal RNA. On the ribosome other molecules, RNAs, and proteins cooperate to link different amino acids into linear arrays called proteins. Protein assembly takes place in the cell but outside the nucleus.

13. Cohen and Stewart 1994; Ingber 1998.

16. See Stent 1981.

17. Brent 1999. Developmentalists are only now thinking about how to handle and analyze such complexity. Some have even reached for connec – tionist models! See, for example, Reinitz et al. 1992. Furthermore, geneti­cists have become increasingly aware of the complexity of expression even of genes usually trotted out as examples of a ‘‘pure’’ 1:1 relationship between genetic structure and phenotype (Scriver and Waters 1999).

18. Stent 1981 ,p. 189.

19. The ethical question of whether these children were ‘‘captured’’ or ‘‘rescued’’ is discussed in Noske 1989. See also Singh 1942; Gesell and Singh 1941.

20. Recent results on humans include Eriksson et al. 1998; Kemperman and Gage 1999. Recent results on other mammals include Barinaga 1998; Johansson et al. 1999; Wade 1999; Gould et al. 1999; Kemperman et al. 1998; and Gould etal. 1997.

21. Barinaga 1996; Yeh et al. 1996; Vaias et al. 1993; Moore et al. 1993. Dramatic examples come from fish that change sex depending on their social setting. See Grober 1997; see also Kolb and Whishaw 1998.

22. Examples of plasticity from nonhuman vertebrates have been accu­mulating for years. See, for example, Crair etal. 1998; Kolb 1993; Kirkwood et al. 1996; Kaas 1993; Singer 1993; Sugita 1996; and Wang et al. 1993. It is imperative to incorporate this work into theories of sexual development. It no longer seems acceptable to me to conclude—even tentatively—from con­sistent patterns emerging from, for example, studies of cognition in adult heterosexual males and females compared to gay male and lesbian adults that ‘‘prenatal sex hormones are critical determinants of a wide range of sex – typical characteristics’’ (Halpern and Crothers i997,p. 197).

23. See White and Fernald 1997.

24. But remember how hard this turns out to be—the same genetic strain of mouse behaves differently in different laboratories (Crabbe et al. 1999).

23. See also Juraska and Meyer 1983. Morphological changes in the shape of individual nerve cells can happen very rapidly (within 30 minutes) after a period of intense activity (Maletic-Savatic et al. 1999; Engert and Bonhoeffer 1999. Longer-term behavioral changes may involve changes in the structure and relationships of so-called neural assemblies—groups of interconnected cells. See Hammer and Menzel 1994.

Consider the dwarf Siberian hamster. Like many animals living in the wild, males develop mature testes and mate during certain seasons, but their gonads shrink and no longer make sperm during their ‘‘down time.’’ While short day length can induce the regression of mature gonads, it can do so only if there are no receptive females and young in the vicinity. Diet can also affect the pattern. Day length, social cues, and diet are all environmental signals that directly affect the hypothalamus, a part of the brain involved in regulating hormonal signals that can affect behavior (Matt 1993). Similar stories can be told for birds, see Ball 1993.

The frequency of sex can also affect the nervous system. The psychologist Marc Breedlove studied spinal cord nerves in rats, focusing on specific nerves involved with erection and ejaculation. Sexually active male rats had smaller nerve cells in certain spinal cord nerves than did celibate ones. This observa­tion is important when trying to interpret information such as that provided by LeVay’s finding that gay and straight men had slightly different cell group­ings in their hypothalamus. We have no way of knowing if the difference caused a behavior or vice versa. Given the complexity of human sexual desire, I suspect the latter is a more likely interpretation (Breedlove 1997; LeVay i99i).

26. Specifically, there was binding in the bed nucleus of the stria termi- nalis, the hippocampus, subiculum, lateral septal nuclei, entorhinal and piri­form cortex, and medial preoptic area and arcuate nucleus of the hypothala­mus. There was a decreased presence of estrogen receptor binding cells in the periventricular gray area of the midbrain (Ehret et al. 1993).

27. Blakeslee 1993; Zuger 1997.

28. Kolata 1998b.

29. Huttenlocher and Dabholkar 1997.

30. Another recent animal example: The neurobiologist Eric Knudsen provided young barn owls with prism glasses, thus distorting their early visual experiences. This led, in turn, to permanent adult changes in the visual fields of the treated owls. He writes that ‘‘the act of learning abnormal associations early in life leaves an enduring trace. . . that enables unusual functional con­nections to be reestablished as needed, in adulthood, even when the associa­tions represented by these connections have not been used for an extended period of time.’’ (Knudsen 1998, p. 1,331).

31. Benes et al. 1993; see also Paus et al. 1999. There are two caveats to this claim. First, the study only goes through the seventh decade of life. I predict that the finding of continued new myelination will be extended as our lifespan increases. Second, Benes et al. studied only one particular region of the brain—a region of the hippocampus. Not all regions of the brain have the same developmental pattern, but I suspect that the general finding that brain development continues throughout life will become more and more sup­ported by future studies on a variety of brain regions.

32. The study of neuroplasticity, especially in adult humans, is in its early days. I expect that additional mechanisms of neural plasticity will be found as studies continue. For arecent example, see Byrne 1997.

33. Kirkwood et al. i996;Wangetal. 1993; Singer 1993; Sugita 1996.

34. This finding fits nicely with work showing a change in cortical repre­sentation of monkeys trained to repeatedly use the middle finger of one hand (Travis 1992; Elbert et al. 1993).

33. Cohen etal. 1997; Sterr et al. 1998.

36. Pons 1996; Sadatoetal. 1996.

37. Baharloo et al. related the development of perfect pitch in musicians to early musical training (Baharloo et al. 1998).

38. For a discussion of how earlier physiologists interpreted the phenom­enon, see Grosz 1994.

39. Agliotietal. i994;Yangetal. 1994; Elbert et al. 1997.

40. Elbertetal. 1994; Kaas 1998. The explanations of phantom limb pain are complicated. See Flor et al. 1993; Knecht et al. 1996; Montoya et al. I997.

41. Such knowledge has stimulated the development of training programs for those who have lost the use of limbs due to stroke. Some programs include verbal as well as physical interventions, again suggesting that the world out­side the body can help shape the body’s interior (Taub et al. 1993; Taub et al. I994).

42. Arnstein i997,p. 179.

43. For analyses of embodiment during pregnancy and of the effects of new technologies of fetal visualization on the embodiment of pregnancy, see Young 1990, chapter 9, and Rapp 1997.

44. Elmanetal. 1996, pp. 334, 363.

43. Elman and colleagues acknowledge their intellectual debt to other systems theorists. Clearly, thought has converged from many intellectual loca­tions toward the idea of dynamic systems development.

These days some psychologists and many neurobiologists have collapsed the distinction between body and mind. One contributor to Loveweb writes: ‘‘The only reason we use psychological language intentions, goals, motives, plans) at all is that we don’t know how to talk about these states in neurophysi­ological terms. . . Environmentalists and interactionists who believe that so- cial/cultural/contextual influences cannot, in principle, be reduced to bio­logical influences are using discourse that is incommensurate with science.’’ Other psychologists disagree with such bio-imperialism. One respondent to this entry writes: ‘‘The key point about ‘psychological language’ is that it for­malizes the way in which conscious humans have evolved to carve up the firm realities of the world of inner personal awareness and its imperfect) social exchange. . . . What we call objective ‘scientific’ observation and thought are parasitic on the capacity to share subjective experiences. . . . And it’s only because we can eventually and appreciably relate physical descriptions of brains, genes, etc. back to experiential accounts that the former can tell us anything with human usefulness.’’ For a feminist analysis of mind, body, and cognitive psychology, see Wilson 1998. In this chapter I use the words psyche and mind interchangeably. Traditionally, according to the OED (online), psyche has meant ‘‘the animating principle in man and other living beings. . . in distinction from its material vehicle, the soma or body’’; in psychology the word has meant ‘‘the conscious and unconscious mind and emotion, esp. as influencing the whole person.’’

46. West and Fenster maker i995,p. 21.

47. West and Zimmerman 1987.

48. West and Fenstermaker 1995; Alarconetal. 1998; Akibaetal. 1999; Hammonds 1994.

49. The study of human development over the entire life cycle has come into its own in the past twenty or so years. For a thorough review, see Elder I998.

50. For more on the psychoanalytic approach, see Fast 1993; Magee and Miller 1997.

51. Jacklin and Reynolds 1993. Lott andMaluso write: ‘‘What appears to be central to all social learning perspectives, and the unifying factor in other­wise differing approaches, is the use of general learning principles to explain human social behavior’’ (Lott and Maluso i993,p. 100). For a theory combin­ing learning and cognitive approaches as well as emphasizing gender as a life­long accomplishment, see Bussey and Bandura 1998.

52. Kessler and McKenna 1978.

53. One exception is the visionary work of Kessler and McKenna (1978), who provided a mature theory of gender construction at a time when thinking about the social construction of gender was in its infancy. See also Beall and Sternberg 1993; Gergen and Davis 1997.

54. Magee and Miller i997,p. xiv.

55. The several process or systems approaches to the study ofhuman de­velopment differ in detail, but none address gender at much length. See Gro – tevant 1987; Wapner and Demick 1998; and Gottlieb et al. 1998.

56. Fogel and Thelen i987,p. 756.

57. Ibid., p. 757.

58. Ibid.

59. The psychologist Esther Thelen and her colleagues have applied these ideas to the development of basic motor skills in infants. Traditionally, psy­chologists believe that infants develop through a series of stages, in which

neuromuscular development precedes the acquisition of new abilities such as crawling or walking. Traditionalists presume that neuromuscular develop­ment proceeds according to a gene-driven developmental plan. In contrast, Thelen offers evidence that neuromuscular connections needed for walking are present at birth, but that infants don’t walk because other aspects of their support structure—bone and muscle strength, for example—are not devel­oped enough to support the body’s weight. Infant crawling, for example, is not ‘‘an inevitable human stage’’ but ‘‘an ad hoc solution to the problem of getting desired distant objects discovered by individual infants, given a partic­ular level of strength and postural control’’ (Thelen i995,p. 91). Thelen does not find the emphasis on individuality at odds with species similarities. She writes: ‘‘Because humans also share anatomy and common biomechanical. . . constraints, solutions to common motor problems also converge. We all dis­cover walking rather than hopping (although our gait styles are individual and unique)’’ (p. 91). These latter particularities have developed as part of the child’s prior movements in interaction with the environment.

Thelen and her colleagues see developmental change ‘‘as a series of states of stability, instability and phase shifts’’ (p. 84). Knowing when such phase shifts or periods of instability are under way can be important for both physi­cal and mental therapy, since these are periods when behaviors have a greater possibility of change. The technical term for such stabilization is canalization, a word C. H. Waddington first applied to embryological development, but a number of developmental psychologists now apply it to the development of behavior. Thelen uses a Waddington-style diagram of canalization to illustrate her point. See also Gottlieb 1991, 1997; Gottlieb et al. 1998; and Wad­dington 1957. Change can occur throughout a lifetime and is always accompa­nied by the destabilization of a current system, followed by a period of insta – bility—a phase of exploration—and ultimately the settling in of a new pattern.

The infant lives in a rich environment, absorbing information from sight, sound, touch, taste, and muscle, joint, and skin receptors that register the constant changes imbibed by an active body. Along with a growing number of developmental psychologists, Thelen rejects a dualism between structure and function. Instead, ‘‘repeated cycles of perception and action give rise to new forms of behavior without preexisting mental or genetic structures’’ (p. 93). Thelen lists six goals for a developmental theory: ‘‘i. To understand the origins of novelty. 2. To reconcile global regularities with local variability, complexity, and context-specificity. 3. To integrate developmental data at many levels of explanation. 4. To provide a biologically plausible yet nonre­ductionist account of the development of behavior. 5. To understand how local processes lead to global outcomes. 6. To establish a theoretical basis for gener­ating and interpreting empirical research’’ (Thelen and Smith 1994, p. xviii).

60. For an in-depth treatment, see Fogel et al. 1997. Other studies fit well into Fogel’s theories, theories that attract me because emotion can be seen to develop as a system that is at the same time physiological and rela­tional. See, for example, Dawsonetal. 1992. Jerome Kagan and his colleagues correlated individual differences in temperament found in very young infants with the subsequent development of childhood and adult personality traits. In their view, temperament emerges as a component of nervous activity that, just as with smile development, the child and its environment transform into a recognizable pattern of behavior. For example, Kagan proposes the tempera­mental category inhibited, which develops from ‘‘very low motor activity and minimal crying in response to unfamiliar events at four months and sociable, fearless behavior in response to discrepant events at one and two years of age’’ (Kagan 1994, p. 49). He believes that the motor activity of newborns is the product of complex genetic and environmental interactions. The terminology used here can very confusing. Researchers, reporters, and laypeople often confuse terms such as genetic, biological, and inborn. Technically, a genetic cause would be one form of biological difference. Something inborn could be inher­ited in the DNA, or it could result from something that affected the fetus in utero. The term environment could also refer to events in utero. For example, infection with the German measles virus can cause permanent damage to a developing fetus. This damage is environmental rather than genetic, but it is also biological, because it interferes with embryonic development. The term environment can also refer to postbirth effects resulting from parental rein­forcement or modeling, peer interactions, and the like. ‘‘Development,’’ he suggests, ‘‘is a cooperative mission, and no behavior is a first-order, direct product of genes’’ (Kagan i994,p. 37).

Kagan offers a systematic account to what every mother claims to know: Children have different temperaments from the moment of birth. Individual personality traits develop and refine over the life cycle. Herein lie two impor­tant contributions to the study of human sexuality. First, individual variability is at least as important as belonging to a particular category such as male or female; and second, behavioral profiles (personalities) develop over the entire life cycle. A particular early pattern does not necessarily become a specific later one. The vast majority of researchers in this field study group differences; those critical of such an approach argue that group difference studies erase variability within groups, variability that is often as great or greater than between-group difference. Furthermore, such an approach fixes the cate­gories. For example, the idea of ‘‘the woman’’ emerges rather than more differentiated categories, such as ‘‘the white, middle class woman in her fifth decade.’’ See discussions by Lewis 1973; Hare-Mustin and Marecek 1994; Kit – zinger 1994; James 1997; and Chodorow 1993. Lott and Maluso note that gender is a complex category because it is always part of a complex that in­cludes race, class, and individual experiences (family, sibling order, etc.). This makes gender a fairly unreliable predictor of behavior. They write: ‘‘our gen­der prophecies based on stereotyped expressions often fail, particularly in situations/contexts where other social categories or personal attributes are more salient or relevant. Our social institutions continue, nevertheless, to strongly support the stereotypes and to generalize behavior, thereby main­taining gender inequities in power and privilege’’ (Lott and Maluso 1993, p. 100). See also Valsiner 1987 for a detailed evaluation of theories in develop­mental psychology.

Kagan does examine sex differences. He reported that about 13 percent of girls who were inhibited at nine and fourteen months became very fearful by twenty-one months of age, while very few low-reactive boys became more timid with time. He presumes (with some evidence) that minimal sex differ­ences in personality became exaggerated over time because ‘‘parents uncon­sciously treat sons and daughters in different ways and produce the larger number of older fearful girls’’ (Kagan i994,p. 263).

61. Of the psychologists cited in the coming paragraphs, Sandra Bem and Barrie Thorne are outspoken feminists. I do not know the political outlook of the other scholars whose work I use here.

62. Fagotetal. 1986.

63 . Infants as young as nine months can perceive the difference between adult male and female faces, but their ability to label others or self does not develop until some time later (Fagot and Leinbach 1993). Fagot and Leinbach rated behaviors according to types of toys chosen (e. g., dolls vs. transporta­tion toys), communication with adults, and levels of aggression. By the time the child reached 2.23 years, the parents of early and late labelers no longer differed in the frequency ofpositive and negative responses to sex-stereotyped play (Fagot and Leinbach 1989, p. 663). On sex-stereotyped parental re­sponses to newborn children, see Karraker et al. 1993.

64. Fagot and Leinbach 1989, p. 672. Levy (1989) found that certain types of parental interactions correlated with greater gender schematization in children; girls with mothers who worked outside the home had greater gender flexibility, as did children with fewer siblings. Boys who watched en­tertainment TV had a greater knowledge ofsex roles, while girls who watched educational television had greater gender role flexibility. Thus many factors contribute to the strength and rigidity of gender role schemas in young chil­dren aged 2.8 to 3 years old.

63. Developmental psychologists use the term gender constancy to describe a child’s ability to tell a person’s sex regardless of clues such as dress or hair­style. There is dispute about when and how such gender constancy develops (Bem 1989).

66. Bem (1989) used photos of children with short hair, but gave them gender-appropriate wigs when she created the gender-typical photos. See also de Marneffe 1997.

67. Martin and Little i99o, pp. 1,436, i,437;Martin 1994.

68. Martin et al. 1990. For additional interactions between cognitive maturation and socialization experiences in middle childhood, see Serbin et

al. 1993.

69. Thorne 1993, pp. 3—4. In 1998, Judith Rich Harris’s book caused a big media flap because she argued the importance of peer socialization. She makes an extreme statement of what Thorne and many other psychologists have known for years. See Harris 1998. The September 7, 1998, issueof News­week devoted its cover story to the book. For recent research on intrafamilial effects of sibling order, gender, and parental attitudes, see McHale et al. 1999.

70. Thorne is far from alone in questioning the utility of continued re­search on difference. See, e. g., James 1997.

71. Garcia-Coll et al. (1997) suggest seven new research approaches: 1) ‘‘Focus on the social and psychological processes that become packaged as ‘race,’ ethnicity, social class and/or gender;’’ 2) ‘‘Examine how contexts shape children’s understandings of social categories;’’ 3) ‘‘Examine the inter­section and boundaries of social categories in children’s lives;’’ 4) ‘‘Examine how children participate in constructing, using, and resisting social cate­gories;’’ 5) ‘‘Examine how social identities influence children’s goals, values, self-concepts, and behavioral engagement;’’ 6) ‘‘Study ‘race,’ ethnicity, social class and gender as developmental phenomena;’’ 7) ‘‘Study the categories themselves.’’

72. Lorber 1994, p. 32; emphasis in original. Lorber is also careful to point out that gender is not the only socially produced dichotomy; she focuses additionally on race and class. Presumably, subjective identities are not ac­quired additively, but gender comes to mean different things within the added matrices of race and class. Psychologists and sociologists concentrate on gen­der for two positive reasons: The gender dichotomy becomes established very early on, and it is a major component of the way many, if not all, cultures produce social organization. There are, of course, also negative reasons— racism and classism—for the relative lack of study of the development of race and class dichotomy in a society in which these aspects of human existence also loom large. See also West and Fenstermaker 1995.

73. See, for example, Epstein 1997; Lott 1997.

74. Lorber 1994; Fiske 1991; Bem 1993; Halley 1994; Jacklin 1989.

75. In a debate among feminist theorists, the political scientist Mary Hawkesworth wrote that ‘‘discussions of gender in history, language, litera­ture and the arts, education, the media, politics, psychology, religion, medi­cine and science, society, law and the workplace have become staples of con­temporary feminist scholarship’’ (Hawkesworth 1997). I agree that all of these intellectual arenas have the potential to contribute to the project of un­derstanding the body as a biosociocultural system. Here I draw examples from the fields of sociology and history.

76. From Katherine B. Davis’s work on women in prison (see chapter 6), to present-day studies on the frequency of homosexual interactions in urban and rural settings, social scientists have wanted information with which to guide important social policy decisions. Are crime and sex related? Can we obtain realistic models of sexual activities and networks that can help us stop the spread of AIDS and other sexually transmitted diseases? Is teenage preg­nancy really on the rise, and if so, why? Getting answers to these questions is not easy, and whatever conclusions we can reach are always qualified by the limits on information gained through mass survey methods (di Mauro 1995, Ericksen 1999).

77. Hacking 1986.

78. Delaney 1991. Or what about men who will not use the word sex to describe homosexual encounters? Instead they have sex with their wives and ‘‘fool around’’ with men (Cotton 1994).

79. Garber (1995) discusses bisexuality. Other discussions of problems with using oversimplified categories of sexual preference may be found in (Rothblatt 1995; Burke 1996).

80. Diamond 1993, p. 298. Such homosexuality is not necessarily ‘‘dis­placement activity.’’ One need only read in the genre of prison biography to find men who genuinely fall in love in prison, but who have a heterosexual love life on the outside. For a moving account of falling in love with other men in prison, see Berkman 1912. Berkman, Emma Goldman’s longtime lover, writes of his deep feelings developed on two occasions while in prison. It is hard to interpret these as merely a sexual outlet. For a more modern account, see Puig 1991.

81. The fear that naming categories and asking people whether they fit in them will actually create the behaviors in question lies at the root of the politi­cal difficulties that sexologists (here I speak primarily of sociologists and psy­chologists who study human sexual behavior) encounter in obtaining funding to do such studies (Fausto-Sterling 1992a; Laumann, Michael, et al. 1994). Mainstream scholars as well as politicians view the study of human sexual behavior with more than a little suspicion. In the 1960s no academic journal would publish Masters and Johnson’s original work on the physiology of the human sexual response (Masters and Johnson 1966). More recently, Cynthia Jayne, a clinical psychologist in private practice, could not convince a major psychology journal to accept her study on female orgasm and sexual satisfac­tion although a sexology journal took it right away. Since their work is often attacked as scandalous, sex researchers have adopted a defensive posture. This fact has contributed significantly to the intellectual shape of the field. As Jayne writes: ‘‘There then exists a narrow path which sex researchers must navigate between responding to inappropriate criticism and generating the critiques that ensure the health and continued professional growth of the field’’ ( Jayne 1986, p. 2). See also Irvine 1990a, 1990b.

82. Elder i998,p. 969.

83. Weeks 1981b. Weeks does not claim these as the only categories, but thinks of them more as a set of guidelines.

84. Evans (1993) writes that ‘‘state penetration of civil society in con­sumer capitalism means that instead of capital domination being grounded in a civil society colonised to the ends of reproducing labour, now civil society is colonised by the state to the ends of reproducing consumers, ‘men and women whose needs are permanently redirected to fit the needs of the mar­ket’, in their obsessive pursuit of sexuality, ‘the medium through which they seek to define their personalities and to be conscious of themselves’’ (p. 64).

83. Weeks 1981b, p. 14.

86. For a detailed historical account of the making of gay male private spaces and culture in New York City, see Chauncey 1994.

87. See, for example, Kates 1993. Leslie Feinberg presents a fascinating history of people who cross-dressed and assumed cross-gendered identities, pointing out that in more than a few cases, individuals who transgressed gen­der divides also engaged in other revolutionary actions: peasant revolts, reli­gious rebellions, and more. Her book breaks new ground, painstakingly stitching together fragments of history. Although in the genre of ‘‘recovered history’’ typical of the beginning of new social movements, it presents a chal­lenge to historians to look more deeply into the cases she brings to light (Feinberg 1996).

88. For the importance oftechnology in the emergence oftranssexualism and contemporary definitions of gender, see Hausman 1993. For the history of cosmetic surgery more generally, consult Haiken 1997. Both books illus­trate the importance of technology in the processes of producing sex and gender.

89. The medical anthropologist Margaret Lock concurs with this point when she writes that most accounts of the body in culture do not ‘‘take into account the powerful transformations of the material brought about by tech­noscience or consider the impact this has on subjectivity, representation and the politics of everyday life’’ (Lock 1997, p. 269).

90. My attempt to provide a visual map of systems of human sexual devel­opment was inspired by the work of the science studies scholar Peter J. Taylor. The first working principle is that social and natural processes cannot be sepa­rated. The second is that quite different modes of inquiry offer important insight into complex puzzles. Taylor applies a systems approach to two differ­ent examples, one involving ecosystems and the other a mental illness—se­vere depression. Consider the process of soil erosion in a Mexican village. Taylor says it can be understood only by the simultaneous consideration of the region’s social and political history, the character of agriculture and ecology (‘‘natural’’ factors such as rainfall, soil structure, etc.), the nature of local social and economic institutions, and regional demographic changes. Tradi­tionally, scholars study each of these factors as if they were independent enti­ties. Taylor, however, represents them as horizontal parallel lines crisscrossed by vertical hen tracks. The hen tracks represent events such as regulation of goat grazing or the use of terracing, which change the nature of the parallel lines. An accurate picture of the current situation can be grasped only by looking at all four lines and their interconnections (Taylor 1995, 1997, 1998, and 1999).

91. Although he did not use the stacking-doll metaphor, many years ago the embryologist Paul Weiss used a diagram of development that resembles a cross section of a Russian doll. He included more of the organismal layers than I do, but the idea is quite similar (Weiss 1959). Others have used more com­plex diagrams to visualize human development. See, for example, Wapner and Demick 1998, fig. 13.1. They use Dewey and Bentley’s notion of transac­tion to describe the ‘‘organism in environment’’ system, which they charac­terize in terms of levels of integration. These range from activities within the individual organism to what Wapner and Demick call the ‘‘person in the world system’’ (p. 767).

92. Dewey and Bentley use the words extradermal and intradermal to com­municate this idea. They also are very wary of the idea of ‘‘the mind.’’ They write: ‘‘The ‘mind’ as ‘actor,’ still in use in present-day psychologies and so­ciologies, is the old self-acting ‘soul’ with its immortality stripped off, grown dessicated and crotchety. ‘Mind’ or ‘mental’ as a preliminary word in casual phrasing is a sound word to indicate a region or at least a general locality in need of investigation; as such it is unobjectionable. ‘Mind,’ ‘faculty,’ ‘I. Q.’ or what not as an actor in charge of behavior is a charlatan, and ‘brain’ as a substi­tute for such a ‘mind’ is worse. Such words insert a name in place of a prob­lem’’ (Dewey and Bentley 1949, pp. 131—32). I use the idea of mind or psyche as a placeholder for processes we can examine, but not as descriptions of a mechanism.

93. Of course there are smaller units within the cells—organelles, mole­cules, etc. But the cell is the last of the independently functioning unit sys­tems. A nucleus and its genes cannot create an organism outside a cell.

94. Harding 1995.

95. This is a paraphrase of‘‘Primatology Is Politics by Other Means,’’ Har – away 1986, p. 77.

[1] will try to use it when it is historically proper. Since the word intersexual is a modern one, I will not use it when writing about the past.

* Members of the present-day Intersexual Movement eschew the use of the word hermaphrodite.

[3] are married; “were h

entirely feminine in their outlook and ways” (p. 2Ss)


g. Bloch defined 14 areas of sexological investigation, including sexual anatomy and physiology (hormones); the physiology of sexual performance; the psychology and evolution of sex; the comparative biology of sex; sexual hygiene; sexual politics, including legislation; sexual ethics; sexual ethnology; and sexual pathology.

h. Carpenter 1909. Carpenter (1844—1929) was himself a member of what he called the ‘‘intermediate sex.’’ He believed in biological differences between the sexes, but thought that the existing social distance was harmful. For more on Carpenter, see Porter and Hall 1993, pp. 138—60.

[5] Marshall 1910. This book established the forming field of reproductive biology by uniting in a single text contributions from embryology, anatomy, physiology, and gynecology. For more on Marshall, see Clarke 1990a, 1990b, 1998).

j. Corner 1963.

k. Heape 1913. Heape argued that men and women have fundamentally different evolutionary interests and that sex antagonism is a biological problem. In discussing what he calls ‘‘the unrest among women,’’ he writes that ‘‘it is primarily a biological problem we are dealing with, that the violation of physiological principles has long preceded that of economic law, and that existing conditions cannot be clearly understood and satisfactorily dealt with until this fact is clearly recognized’’ (pp. 11-12). For additional discussion in relation to sex hormones, see Oudshoorn 1994 and Clarke 1998.

[6] . An instructional tape for surgical trainees produced by the American College of Surgeons opens with the surgeon Richard S. Hurwitz saying, ‘‘The finding of ambiguous genitalia in the newborn is a medical and social emer-

The Rodent’s Tale

1. Milton Diamond, Elizabeth Adkins-Regan, William Byne, Donald Dewesbury, Marc Breedlove, and, indirectly, Kim Wallen—all of whom study the role of hormones in behavior and/or study the comparative psychol­ogy of animals—took time to comment on an earlier draft of this chapter. Their critiques were generous and of enormous help. I am very grateful for their efforts. Their commitment to helping me ‘‘get it right,’’ even when I occasionally stepped on their toes, represents the spirit of open, scientific inquiry at its best. Of course, I am solely responsible for the final outcome.

2. Aberle and Corner i933. Borell ^987) lists the transfer date as i93i. See also the discussion in Clarke i998.

3. Borell Q987) quotes a BSH memorandum explaining the transfer: ‘‘It had been felt by the Bureau for some time that this would be an advantageous move, inasmuch as the Foundation, through its biological experts, could fur­nish an advisory control which the Bureau could not supply; and the Founda­tion also inclined to the view that the administration of this program and the evaluation of the results of the researches conducted are more clearly in the field of the present research programs of the natural sciences and medical sciences of the Foundation than in the program of the Bureau’’ (p. 79).

4. Quoted in Borell i987,p. 79. Borell notes that this new independence of scientific researchers resulted in the abandonment of the search for an easy – to-use spermicide contraceptive, which had anyway ‘‘never summoned the interest of scientists as the contraceptive pill was to do’’ (p. 85). The contra­ceptive pill was in the end developed (with Sanger’s support and funding) at a private foundation founded by Gregory Pincus after he was denied tenure at Harvard following intense controversy over his early work on artificial par­thenogenesis in mammals. See also Clarke 1990a and b.

5. Quoted in Kohler 1976^.291.

6. For the story of how these events led to the modern-day fields of molec­ular biology, see Kohler 1976; Kay 1993; and Abir-Am 1982.

7. Aberle and Corner i953,p. 100.

8. Aberle and Corner (1953 ) list Terman’s last CRPS grant for the prepa­ration of a ‘‘report on the marital adjustment of intellectually superior sub­jects’’ (p. 129). For the path from Yerkes to Carpenter to modern primatology as a model for human sex behavior and social organization, see Haraway 1989.

9. For a brief history of the latter two fields in the United States, see Dewsbury 1989.

10. Many received funds from the Rockefeller Foundation both indepen­dently and via the Committee for Research in Problems of Sex. Before 1938, 25 percent of grants from CRPS funded behavioral research, with most of the rest addressing the basic physiology of sex and reproduction. From i938 to 1947, however, 45 percent of CRPS’s grants went for research into sex-related behavior, with a major focus on the role of hormones. For a complete list for this period, see Aberle and Corner 1953.

ii. There is a large parallel literature on primates, work that hormone researchers have always felt to be particularly applicable to humans. Some of the concepts developed with rodents do not hold up well in primates. But the primate work is expensive and difficult, because of the long lives of the ani­mals, the need for breeding colonies, and the growing recognition that pri­mate behavior, even more than rodent behavior, needs naturalistic settings if one wants to draw conclusions about ‘‘normal’’ development. There is also an influential literature on birds, one of the few groups for which the relationship between hormones and certain aspects of brain development is fairly clear. See Schlinger 1998. For a current and extensive review of the work on verte­brates, see Cooke etal. 1998.

12. Squier i999,p. 14 of electronic printout.

13. Quoted in May i988,p. 93.

14. Quoted in D’Emilio 1983^.41. For a deeper discussion of the inter­twining of anticommunism, homosexual repression, emphasis on a narrowly defined family structure, and the staking out of clear cultural definitions of masculinity and femininity, see May 1988 and 1995, Breines 1992, andEhren – reich 1983. See D’Emilio 1983, Ehrenreich 1983, and Reumann 1998 for discussion of the enormous secondary literature on homosexuality and gender in the postwar period.

15. Schlesinger 1958, p. 63. Women, wrote Arthur Schlesinger, Jr., ‘‘seem an expanding, aggressive force, seizing new domains like a conquering army, while men, more and more on the defensive, are hardly able to hold their own and gratefully accept assignments from their new rulers. A recent book bears the stark and melancholy title The Decline of the American Male” (p. 63).

16. Quoted in May 1988^.140.

17. Quoted in May i988,p. 66.

18. In the 1930s, masculinity did not require special attention. The field of andrology emerged as an independent discipline in the 1970s. See, for ex­ample, Bain et al. 1978. Niemi (1987) notes that the idea of andrology ap­peared as early as 1891, but that the first societies and journals didn’t coalesce until the i970s.

19. Quoted in May 1988^.147.

20. This idea resurfaces from time to time. In response to the increase in single mothers, Robert Bly described his vision of the ‘‘deep masculine’’— something sons imbibed bodily from their fathers and that single mothers, no matter how well meaning, could never give (Bly 1992).

21. SeeD’Emilio 1983. For a thorough and illuminating discussion of the Kinsey reports and the national discussion of sex and sexuality, see Reumann I998.

22. Quoted in Elger et al. 1974, p. 66, from remarks made at a 1969 workshop conference on ‘‘Integration of Endocrine and Non-endocrine Mechanisms in the Hypothalamus.’’

I have limited this entire discussion to mammals; there are significant differences found in other vertebrates.

23. Jost 1947, 1946a, 1946b, and 1946c.

24. Wiesner i935,p. 32; emphasis in original.

25. Greene etal. 1940b, pp. 328,450.

26. These experiments all addressed the question of secondary sex deter­mination—i. e., the development of the gonadal duct system and external genitalia. Jost did not examine primary sex determination— i. e., the differ­entiation of the gonad as either a testis or an ovary.

From his first publication through the 1970s, Jost also actively promoted his work—publishing many times, often in review articles or in symposium proceedings, so that his original data, while supplemented steadily by new results, also received ongoing attention.

27. Jost 1946c, p. 301; his emphasis, my translation. Later experimenters identified two culprits. Embryonic testosterone encouraged differentiation of the male duct system and masculine external genitalia, while a new hor – mone—a proteinlike structure dubbed Mullerian Inhibiting Substance (MIS for short)—induced degeneration of the embryonic female duct system. The embryonic male testis makes both fetal testosterone and MIS. Jost tried re­moving only one testis; under those circumstances male development contin­ued apace, while the female duct system degenerated as it normally would in an unoperated male fetus. From this and other experiments he concluded that the testis secreted one or more factors that caused male duct differentiation and female duct degeneration. Jost also grafted testes onto female embryos or ovaries into males, but the grafted tissue did not affect the embryos’ develop­ment, a failure he attributed to the fact that he had to use older embryos, which he presumed had already passed through the stage during which devel­opment was plastic. However, the androgen-supplemented embryos still differed from normal males because they had at least some uterine develop­ment, although the vaginal region was ‘‘more or less inhibited.’’ Jost never reported testing the possible actions of estrogen on the development of either castrated male or castrated female embryos, although it is possible that he tried such tests but that the estrogen caused the embryos to abort.

28. MIS is currently an object of great research interest because it has been identified as an important and ubiquitous growth factor—transforming growth factor-^. Gustafson and Donahoe (1994) review the work on MIS molecular biology (pp. 509—16).

29. Jost 1946c, p. 307; my translation. Jost soon extended his studies ex­amining male and female duct tissue grown in in vitro tissue culture. This work, however, did not eliminate the possibility of hormonal effects on female development. As he, himself, pointed out, his culture system was not ‘‘anhor – monal.’’ In 1951, Jost wrote that the action of trace estrogens contained in the serum used as his culture medium ‘‘cannot be neglected a priori. We must ultimately return to the use of a synthetic hormone-free medium’’ (Jost and Bozic 1951, p. 650); see also Jost and Bergerard 1949. But by 1953 his inter­pretation had begun to change. Acknowledging that female development might be affected by maternal hormones produced in the placenta or the mother’s gonads, or by nonovarian fetal hormones (e. g., the adrenal glands), and reminding his readers that he had provided evidence of some ovarian ac­tivity, he nevertheless felt ‘‘that maternal or extragonadal gynogenic sub­stances can hardly account for the feminization of the gonadectomized fetus’’ (Jost 1953, p. 387). This, he concluded, despite again acknowledging earlier reports that estrogens could feminize male fetal development (Greene et al. 1940a, 1940b; Raynaud 1947. Jost (1953) wrote that ‘‘the interpretation of this experiment was not evident’’ (p. 417).

30. Jost’s rhetoric changed with time. In 1954, he wrote ‘‘the foetal testis plays the principle role’’ in normal sexual development (implication: females become female because they lack a testis) (Jost 1954, p. 246). In i960, he wrote: ‘‘the anhormonal (sex in mammals) is feminine and the testis prevents males from differentiating as females’’ (Jost i960, p. 59). By 1965 he was saying thatfemale mammals are ‘‘the neutral sex type’’ (Jost i960, p. 59). In 1969, ‘‘becoming a male is a prolonged, uneasy, and risky adventure; it is a kind of struggle against inherent trends toward femaleness’’ (Jost 1965, p. 612). Finally, in 1973, Jost wrote: ‘‘masculine characteristics. . . have to be imposed in males by the fetal testicular hormones against a basic feminine trend of the mammalian body. Female organogenesis results from the mere absence of testes, the presence or absence of ovaries being unimportant’’ (Jost etal. i973,p. 41).

When computer terminology entered the language in the 1980s, research­ers updated Jost’s description of an inherent trend toward femaleness into a metaphor of female development as a ‘‘default pathway.’’ The earliest use I can find of the phrase ‘‘default sex’’ to describe female development is 1978. The editors of the journal Trends in Neuroscience use the term in the introduction to Dohler 1978.

31. Jost et al. 1973. Jost was French, and I have not looked at the specifics of such discussions in France after World War II. But his ideas were known and discussed internationally and gained rapid acceptance in the United States. The production of scientific knowledge not only involves doing experi­ments and interpreting results, but being in the right place at the right time for a particular result and interpretation to be culturally intelligible. For more on this issue, see Latour 1987.

The mono-hormonic theories also echo nineteenth-century views of women, children, and nonwhites as being closer to nature. All races and sexes developed identically up to a point, but only white males continued devel­oping into true adulthood. For a full treatment of these nineteenth-century views, see Russett 1989 and also Herschberger 1948.

32. Aristotle wrote: ‘‘The female is a female by virtue of a lack of certain qualities. We should regard the female nature as afflicted with a natural defec­tiveness.’’ St. Thomas thought that women were imperfect men, incidental beings. In the oedipal drama of becoming (a la Freud), the female psyche must accommodate to the absence of a penis, while the male psyche must adjust to the fear of its loss and thus a return to some basal female state (quoted in de Beauvoir 1949, p. xxii).

Additional explanations for the acceptance of the female = absence, male = presence theory may include the difficulty of the necessary experi­ments, the time needed to fill in difficult-to-get details, which could be ob­tained only by diverting attention from easier and more immediately produc­tive (in terms of publications) experiments. One component of scientific success is the ability to balance a forward-moving program against the impor­tance of digging into a recalcitrant problem.

Some of the unresolved experimental results included: (1) the possibility that Jost’s castrations were not done early enough to detect an effect of remov­ing the fetal ovary; (2) that injected estrogens could feminize male develop­ment and stimulate the growth of female organs; (3) while Jost tried substitut­ing injected testosterone for the removed testis, he never performed parallel experiments for the removed ovary; (4) he did not work to identify possible nonovarian sources of estrogen or other nonestrogenic differentiative factors that might govern female differentiation; (3) Jost knew that the fetal ovary made estrogen from an early point, but did not seem to worry about the func­tion of the estrogen.

The possibility that estrogen, from either the mother or the fetal ovary, might play a role in secondary sex determination is still not completely re­solved. Certainly in some vertebrates it ‘‘is thought to play a major role in the gonadal differentiation,’’ (di Clemente et al. 1992, p. 726); see also (Reyes et al. 1974. George et al. (1978) found that the embryonic rabbit ovary begins to make large quantities of estrogen at exactly the same time as the fetal testis begins to make testosterone. They suggest further studies to clarify the func­tion of this fetal estrogen (Ammini et al. 1994; Kalloo et al. 1993). These latter authors find that: ‘‘The presence of estrogen receptors suggests that maternal estrogen may play a direct role in female external genital develop­ment, challenging the widely held view that female external genital develop­ment is passive because it can occur in the absence of fetal gonadal hormones’’

(p. 692).

33. Greene’s results showing estrogen’s potential to actively feminize male embryos rankled. Jost continued to note the need for further experi­mentation to resolve such contradictory results. Slowly, however, references to Greene’s work and calls for further experimentation disappeared from Jost’s writing. By 1963, the mono-hormonic theory appeared in Jost’s writing as fully proven fact, rather than tentative theory requiring further experimen­tal verification. Although continuing to note that estrogens could feminize male embryos, he suggested that injected estrogen did not actively cause differentiation. Rather, it damaged the testes’ ability to make testosterone, thus allowing the ‘‘natural’’ femininity of the embryo to emerge. In 1963, Jost still considered the presence/absence theory of male and female develop­ment to be ‘‘speculative.’’ Although he could present a tidy-looking story, such a presentation ‘‘should not conceal the necessity ofnew crucial experiments” (Jost 1963, p. 614). but he never did perform all of the critical experiments suggested in is 1947 paper.

34. See notes 43 and 46 for evidence of this claim. In a 1999 debate about the concept of default development, one Loveweb member wrote: ‘‘Maybe the female program is also dependent on some hormone—all we know is that gonadal hormone isn’t required. How about the 20—30 hormones that probably exist that we haven’t discovered yet? The more I grow old and cur­mudgeonly, the less sense this default stuff makes. I don’t think it means a da**ed thing, but merely poses as a phrase that means something.’’ Evidence continues to emerge that suggests the importance of events in the ovary for regulating sexual differentiation (Vainio et al. 1999). It does seem likely, how­ever, that in mice neither progesterone nor estrogen is a major actor in initial events (Smith, Boyd, etal. 1994; Lydonetal. 1995; Korach 1994).

35. This process is called primary sex determination.

36. Once a fetal gonad appears, it can produce hormones that induce sec­ondary sexual development—the problem that researchers in the 1930s through the 1950s addressed, and to which I will return later in this chapter.

37. Schafer etal. i995,p. 271; emphasis added.

38. Wolf 1995, p. 325; emphasis added.

39. Capel I998, p. 499.

40. Angier 1999, p. 38.

41. See, for example, Mittwoch 1996.

42 . The metaphor that promotes feminist glee can also fuel masculine oppression. ‘‘Western culture,’’ writes the psychologist Helen Haste, ‘‘has a strong tradition of rationality overcoming the forces of chaos that is closely interwoven with masculine versus feminine. . . . One pole is not only anti­thetical to, it triumphs over, the other pole. Dark forces must be challenged and conquered’’ (Haste 1994, p. 12). In a similar vein, the feminist historian Ludmilla Jordanova notes how the Enlightenment brought us word pairs such as nature/culture, woman/man, physical/mental, mothering/thinking, feeling and superstition/abstract knowledge and thought, darkness/light, na – ture/science and civilization (Jordanova 1980 and 1989).

43. Wolf 1995, p. 325. At least one scientist I have corresponded with disputes this claim, but I believe it is justifiable. Many embryology texts have a section entitled ‘‘sex determination’’ that discusses only male development. For example, Carlson considers the topic of ‘‘the genetic determination of gender.’’ He first notes that females develop in the absence of a Y chromosome, then spends the entire section discussing male development. Figure 15—22 in his book illustrates a complex and detailed account of the mechanisms of male development, but there is no analogous illustration of the mechanisms of fe­male development (Carlson 1999, pp. 375—76). The only modern textbook that treats male and female development in an evenhanded manner is by Scott Gilbert (Gilbert 1997). And it is no accident that one of Gilbert’s public hats is that of a feminist historian of science. See also Swain et al. 1998; Haqq et al. 1994; and McElreavey et al. 1993.

44. Fausto-Sterling 1989.

45. Eicher and Washburn i986,pp. 328—29.

46. Wolf acknowledges that ‘‘female development is undoubtedly not spontaneous’’ (p. 325), but does not otherwise discuss female development. Two articles by Sinclair discuss the testis-determining pathway, and although acknowledging that there is complexity underlying both ovarian and testicu­lar determination, never hypothesizes an ovarian determining pathway (Sin­clair i995, i998). Capel writes that the default terminology ‘‘may be mis­leading because it suggests that the female pathway is not an active, genetically controlled process’’ (1998, p. 499). Hunter gives a paragraph to Eicher and Washburn’s hypothesis, but then spends the rest of a sixty-six-page chapter (entitled ‘‘Mechanisms of Sex Determination’’) discussing genes for testis de­termination (Hunter 1995). Swain et al. write: ‘‘ovary differentiation is un­likely to be passive as there are changes in gene expression that occur very early in XX genital ridge development’’ (1998,p. 761).

Only three current papers picture genes active in female development. Such accounts of ‘‘sex differentiation’’ (as opposed to male differentiation) are still in the minority (Werner et al. 1996; Jimenez and Burgos 1998; Schafer and Goodfellow 1996).

47. The ‘‘master’’ gene hypothesis weighs heavily in this story. Most cur­rent work on primary sex determination considers that the Y chromosome contains a ‘‘master gene,’’ a switch that starts the development ball rolling. It takes, according to this model, only one gene to determine male develop­ment. Others argue that development is a process for which many genes are critical, as is getting the timing of gene action right. On the latter viewpoint, see Mittwoch 1989, 1992, and 1996.

48. Milton Diamond writes: ‘‘Asa graduate student my first thesis attempt in this vein was to see if estrogens could feminize male fetuses as androgens masculinized females. My injections of estrogens into pregnant guinea pigs invariably resulted in fetal death. This was a great disappointment to me since it’s hard to study behavior that way’’ (Diamond 1997a, p. 100). Another re­searcher wrote me that the effects of estrogen on animal behavior were small and hard to measure. ‘‘That doesn’t mean that they are unimportant, of course, but if you were an Assistant Professor and you wanted to be produc­tive, I hope you’d choose to study robust effects and not subtle ones’’ (anony­mous, personal communication).

49. For Jost’s description of meeting Wilkins, see Jost i972,pp. 38—39.

50. Frank Beach writes: ‘‘The importance of support distributed by this committee to development of hormone behavior research has never been ade­quately recognized. . . the decision of the Committee for Research in Prob­lems of Sex to encourage investigations of copulation in rats . . . , or fre­quency of orgasm in married women. . . , was a courageous one that eventually opened the way for general expansion of research on effects of hor­mones on a very important category ofbehavior’’ (Beach 1981 ,p. 354).

The work on hormones and animal behavior that evolved from the late 1930s through the 1960s built directly and consciously on the issues addressed by early hormone researchers. Beach cites Lillie, Moore, Marshall, Heape, and many others as early contributors to the field (Beach 1981).

Beach’s Ph. D. mentor at the University of Chicago was Karl S. Lashley (1890—1958). Lashley’s work on brain mechanisms and intelligence empha­sized a holistic view of brain function, and his views are clearly reflected in

Beach’s work and manner of thinking. For more on Lashley, see Weidman, 1999-

Beach discussed his results on brain-injured rats with an endocrinologist who suggested that brain injury could disturb pituitary secretion and thus affect gonadal hormone secretion. Beach wrote of this encounter: ‘‘I hadn’t the faintest understanding of what he was talking about; but after reading a bit of endocrinology I decided to inject some of my brain-operated, de-sexed males with testosterone just to see what would happen. . . lo and behold! The injected rats regained their libido; and I thought I was on the way to a Nobel Prize’’ (Beach 1985, p. 7.).

In the United States, the field of animal psychology was known as compar­ative psychology. In Europe, a related but distinct tradition was known as ethology. Only during the 1950s did European ethology strongly influence American comparative psychologists. For a historical treatment of compara­tive psychology, see Dewsbury 1989 and 1984.

51. As one researcher wrote me, ‘‘For the behaviorist, that is the beauty of it because there is so much that can be easily measured.’’ Even closely re­lated species differ in the details. Male guinea pigs, for example, resemble primates in the use of repetitive thrusts but a single intromission (anonymous, personal communication).

5 2. Behaviors such as nest building, maternal care, and aggression in ter­ritorial defense also defined masculinity and femininity in rats, but in this period, Beach focused primarily on figuring out the components of mating behaviors. For recent theories on hormones, experience, and parenting be­havior, see Krasnegor and Bridges 1990.

53. For an overwrought account of the necessity of psychoanalysis for daily life, see Lundberg and Farnham 1947.

54. See, for example, Watson 1914 and Dewsbury 1984.

55. Beach was not enamored of Watson and the behaviorists. In 1961 he wrote: ‘‘It seems to me the time has come for a re-examination ofthese prob­lems with great attention being given to genetically-influenced biologic fac­tors which may contribute to some of these differences’’ between the sexes and between racial groups (Beach 1961, p. 160).

56. In a retrospective moment William C. Young wrote: ‘‘Research on the relationships between the hormones and sexual behavior has not been pur­sued with the vigor justified by the biological, medical, and sociological im­portance of the subject. Explanation may lie in the stigma any activity associ­ated with sexual behavior has long borne. In our experience, restraint has been requested in the use of the word ‘sex’ in institutional records and in the title of research proposals. We vividly recollect that the propriety of present­ing certain data at scientific meetings and seminars was questioned’’ (Young

19^ p. 2I2).

57. Beach і942іТ p. 173.

58. In 1947 he wrote: ‘‘Importance of the holistic approach: Physiological experiments designed to identify the nervous pathways involved in a particu­lar genital reflex, or to measure the importance of secretions from a single gland to the occurrence of copulatory reactions, have contributed a great deal to our understanding of sexual behavior. It should be obvious, however, that the full significance of such findings becomes apparent only when they are viewed against the broader background of the total sexual pattern as it appears in the normal animal’’ (Beach 1947, p. 240).

59. ‘‘Individual differences in the ease with which various inexperienced males become sexually aroused constitute an important factor which must be taken into consideration in any attempt to define the adequate stimulus for mating behavior. A stimulus situation eliciting copulation in one male may fail to call forth the mating reactions of a less excitable individual of the same species’’ (Beach 1942c, p. 174).

60. ‘‘The appearance of the overt copulatory pattern depends jointly upon the male’s sexual excitability, and the intensity of the stimulation afforded by the incentive animal. A highly excitable male may attempt copula­tion with an incentive animal of relatively low stimulus value. … A less ex­citable male fails to show mating reactions in response to all incentive animals other than the receptive female with which he will copulate. A male of low excitability may not be aroused to the point of copulation even when offered the receptive female’’ (Beach i942e, p. 246). Beach and other researchers commented on the fact that there were always males and females in a colony that seemed to have no interest in mating. Eventually, it became common practice to eliminate such animals from tests of mating activity.

61. Beach 1942c.

62. Apparently animals could still mate, even with their cortex removed. See Beach i942b, c, pp. 179—181; and Beach 1943.

63. Beach 1941.

64. Beach 1942a. Normal females did not require outside testosterone to show a male mating pattern. Beach and Priscilla Rasquin raised females in sexually segregated quarters and then tested them daily through four mating cycles. During the test, they allowed the female to adapt to the test cage, placed her with a receptive female for five minutes, and then with a sexually active male. They divided the female’s masculine mating behaviors into three types: (i ) mounting and embracing the mounted animal with her forepaws; (2 ) mounting, touching the mounted animal with her forepaws, and pelvic thrusting; and (3) mounting, touching, and ‘‘giving a final forceful thrust and dismounting with a pronounced backward lunge.’’ Of 20 females, 18 exhib­ited the sexual clasp, i8 showed mounting, touching, and pelvic thrusting, and 5 engaged in the complete ‘‘male’’ copulation pattern. The masculine behaviors occurred whether or not the females were in heat.

Beach and Rasquin drew some startling conclusions: First, they noted that the majority of the female rats in their colony had the brain and muscular anatomy needed for a male mating pattern. Second, they concluded that the same stimulus—a female in heat—elicited this male pattern in both sexes. Finally, they noted that ovarian hormones did not control masculine mating in female rats (Beach and Rasquin 1942); see also Beach 1942a and f. Beach first reported on these cross-gendered behaviors in 1938. He quotes from his own lab journal, dated 1937, on Male No. 136 interacting with Female No. 192:

10:03 AM: Female dropped into observation cage containing male. . . . 10:13 AM: . . . Both animals display all signs of intense sexual excitement but the male never actually mounts and palpates the female. 10:16: Fe­male whirls about, approaches male from the rear and mounts and pal­pates actively. The forepaws of the female clasp and palpate the male. . . and the female’s pelvic region is moved in and out with the piston-like action characteristic of the copulating male. After this brief display of mas­culine activity the female dismounts, without the typical masculine lunge, and does not clean the genital region. 10:17: Female responds to male’s investigatory activity by crouching, arching the back, and vibrating the ears rapidly.

Beach notes that this particular female mounted and palpated the male seven times in a fifteen-minute observation period. He emphasizes that she exhibits both masculine and feminine responses (Beach 1938 ,p. 332).

63. Beach 1942b, p. 183. To reinforce his point, Beach also cites Carl Moore’s earlier debates with Steinach, especially Moore’s insistence that indi­vidual rats varied too much to be used as an indicator of hormone presence or absence.

66. This mass effect is compatible with Lashley’s approach to brain function.

67. Later he reported on experiments confirming this hunch. He contin­ued to emphasize the holistic approach: ‘‘Evidence makes it plain that the effects of androgen are mediated by a complex combination of mechanisms, of which the supposed tactile functions of the glans are only one’’ (Beach and Levinson i930,p. 168).

68. Beach 1947—i948,p. 276.

69. Beach i963,p. vii.

70. Beach writes that certain statements in his text ‘‘are based upon data generously made available by Dr. A. C. Kinsey of Indiana University, whose extensive interview study of sexual behavior in more than i0,000 humans is to be published in the future (Beach 1947, p. 301). Kinsey and Beach were both funded by CRPS, a fact that Kinsey notes in the introduction to his 1948 study. They met and talked about their common interests.

71. Marc Breedlove, personal communication (May 1999). Kinsey used personal interviews to gather his data. He personally recruited and trained in­terviewers.

72. In Jones (1997) and Gasthorne-Hardy (1998) Beach discusses his friendship with Kinsey. Kinsey got his first CRPS grant in 1941 and received new funding yearly, in increasing amounts, through 1947 (Aberle and Cor­ner 1953).

73. Kinsey et al. 1948, 1933. In the 1933 volume, Kinsey specifically thanks Beach for contributing information on animal behavior (p. ix).

74. See, for example, Berube 1990; Katz 1993.

73. For the many strands and complexities of this discussion, see Reu – mann 1998.

76. The architect of this new work had done many studies on individual variation and concluded with others that individuality emerged because each body—or, as the scientists call it, ‘‘substrate’’—differed. He wrote: ‘‘it was clear that the central problem for the investigator interested in accounting for the great variability in patterns of mating behavior was to identify the factors which determine the character of the substrate on which the gonadal hor­mones act’’ (Young i960, p. 202). This article brought the latest in rat re­search into the psychiatric community. The theory of organization and activa­tion is only infrequently used to explain differences among individuals of the same species, even though this question originally stimulated experiments that led to the O/A theory.

77. For a complete bibliography of Young’s publications and a brief biog­raphy, see Goy 1967. He was supported through money Lillie obtained from CRPS (Dempsey 1968); see also Roofe 1968. Although he worked on other animals, especially rats and monkeys, and some of his students focused espe­cially on primates, the bulk of Young’s publications were devoted to guinea pig behavior.

78. Quoted in Goy i967,p. 7.

79. Young 1941, p. 141.

80. Young and Rundlett i939,p. 449.

81. Youngetal. 1939. They wrote: ‘‘in any measurement of sexual drive, mounting activity and receptivity should be regarded as separable compo­nents of a sexual behavior complex and measured directly by whatever means are considered most appropriate’’ (p. 63).

82. Young and Rundlett 1939.

83. In this cyclical dependence guinea pig females differ from rats. Young indicates the lingering confusion discussed in the previous chapter engen­dered by expectations for so-called male and female hormones: ‘‘Early in the work it was anticipated that estrogen-androgen rather than estrogen – progesterone action would stimulate mounting activity. The relative ineffec­tiveness of the androgens which have been employed is surprising, but their ability to substitute for progesterone more efficiently in the induction of heat than in the induction of the male-like mounting activity is even more puz­zling’’ (Young and Rundlett 1939, p. 439).

84. Young 1941, p. 311. Here we see the culture of scientific practice at work. To do science at all, some measurable starting point was needed. Young, like the others, needed steady results in order to obtain funding, train stu­dents, and continue his work. Successful scientific practice, in other words, does not necessarily lead to a balanced overview of organismal function. It does lead to carefully designed experiments of the sort that give specific re­sults and pave the way for more carefully designed experiments.

83. They also included another category of mating response called ‘‘other’’ (Young and Grunt 1931).

86. ‘‘It is postulated. . . that much of the difference between individuals is attributable to the reactivity of the tissues rather than to differences in the amount of hormone’’ (Grunt and Young 1932, p. 247). See also Grunt and Young 1933 and Riss and Young 1934.

87. Valenstein et al. 1933, p. 402. The additional papers detailing the importance of genetic background and experience in males are Valenstein et al. 1934; Riss et al. 1933; Valenstein and Young 1933; and Valenstein and Goy 1937. Young’s group began in this period to flirt more seriously with the distinction between early organization of neural patterns and their activation at a separate time by circulating hormones. In one paper they write: ‘‘The data suggest the role of t. p. [testosterone propionate] to be that of an activator rather than a direct organizer of sexual behavior. The organization is depen­dent on variables associated with the strains and upon opportunity to learn the techniques of mounting and maneuvering a female’’ (Riss et al. 1933, p. 144). At the time Young also felt that the organization of sexual behaviors in males ‘‘is not as sharply restricted to an early critical period as is’’ imprinting in birds (Young 1937, p. 88). After 1939, Young and others began to insist on the importance of a critical period, and once they had demonstrated a prenatal organizing effect of testosterone, they no longer wrote about the social isola­tion effects as ‘‘organizing.’’ Robert Goy, whom Young trained, also found strain differences and experience important for the organization of female mating responses. These findings assume importance in view ofthe later focus on the role (or lack thereof) of prenatal estrogen in organizing female mating patterns. See Goy and Young 1936—37; Goy and Young 1937; Goy and Jak-

way 1939.

88. Phoenix etal. 1939.

89. IbidM p. 370.

90. FordandBeach 1931 ,p. 123; HampsonandHampson i96i, p. 1,423. Although this paper appeared two years after that of Phoenix et al., Young edited the volume in which it was published. Thus he and his co-workers had read it and could refer to it ‘‘in press.’’

91. The dispute was complex. Hampson and Hampson, for example, wrote that their study ‘‘of human hermaphroditism points strongly to the tre­mendous influence of rearing and social learning in the establishment of nor­mal gender role. . . and by analogy, disordered psychologic sex.’’ At the same time they did not entirely rule out genetic or constitutional contributions. But they thought the ‘‘evidence militates too strongly against a theory of innate, preformed and inherited behavioral imperatives, hormonal or otherwise’’ (1961 ,p. і,428). There were also debates within Young’s lab about the mean­ing of the findings: ‘‘The younger members of the team were more convinced [than Young] that this was a direct brain effect. . . . This was a hotly debated issue in the lab while the paper was being written and the somewhat contra­dictory views finally presented reflect a balance between what they suspected had occurred and what they could actually demonstrate’’ (Kim Wallen, per­sonal communication, July іі, 1997).

92. I discussed the technical details of this paper at some length in Fausto – Sterling 1995. I have been convinced by critics that some aspects of this earlier treatment were in error, especially my failure to give Young his full historical due and my assertion that Phoenix et al. claimed a brain effect, when in fact they were more cautious, claiming a central nervous system effect. But the paper is useful for showing how the O/A theory has been modified in fairly fundamental ways since its original publication, and I stand by my critique that the model leaves out experience and genetic and individual difference. It is not the sort of holistic model that Beach wanted, nor that I develop in this chapter and the next.

93. Phoenix al. 1959, p. 372. They performed four basic experiments: (і) they injected prenatally exposed females in adulthood with estradiol and progesterone and measured aspects of their mating responses, concluding that prenatal androgen exposure suppressed the lordosis response, but not male­like mounting; (2) they tested for ‘‘permanence’’ of the effects of prenatal androgen and found them present at 6—9 and then again at 11-12 months of age (guinea pigs live for 10—12 years), concluding that ‘‘the suppression of the capacity for displaying the feminine components of the sexual behavior pat­tern. . . appears to have been permanent’’ (p. 377); (3) they studied the effects of injecting adults who had been prenatally exposed to androgen with testosterone, finding such females more responsive (i. e., more likely to ex­hibit a masculine mating pattern) to testosterone than were untreated females and concluding that ‘‘the earlier appearance and greater strength ofmasculine behavior by the hermaphrodites given testosterone propionate are believed to be effects of the prenatally administered testosterone propionate on the tissues mediating masculine behavior and therefore to be expressions of its orga­nizing action’’; (4) they examined the behavior of adult male siblings—also exposed to androgen prenatally; here they found no apparent effect of prenatal testosterone treatment.

Here I discuss only mating behavior. The authors were well aware of other sex-differentiated behaviors (e. g., maternal behaviors, nest building, territo­rial aggression), but Young and Beach had spent decades defining mating be­haviors in a manner that could be quantitatively measured and evaluated.

94. Grady and Phoenix 1963, p. 483. Rats began to be used for these studies because there is a biological difference of practical importance be­tween rats and guinea pigs. The important anatomical and organizational events in guinea pigs take place in utero because guinea pigs are long-gestation animals. Rats, however, gestate for a shorter time and are born far more sexu­ally undifferentiated. Young and colleagues never succeeded in doing prenatal castrations (in utero) in guinea pigs, but in rats they could work on individual newborns rather than do surgery on a pregnant female. Furthermore, they could directly treat test individuals with hormones rather than inject pregnant females (Grady et al. 1963).

93. Beach 1981. Beach discusses both Young’s and his early work in Beach (1981). In an autobiographical piece Beach lists the organizational effects of hormones during early development under the topic ‘‘Discoveries I almost made.’’ He also discusses his dog experiments in this context (Beach 1978, p. 3°).

96. Phoenix et al. 1939 ,p. 381. The central nervous system refers to the brain and spinal cord. Although they suspected brain involvement, the au­thors were cautiously agnostic, since they did not have evidence to this effect.

97. Phoenix etal. i939,p.379.

98. Ibid., p. 380. It took less than a decade for Young to adopt the pres – ence/absence language introduced by Jost. In 1967,he wrote: ‘‘Manyofthose traits which are sexually dimorphic. . . appear to be influenced in the mascu­line direction by appropriate treatment with androgen and in the feminine direction by the absence of early steroid hormones’’ (Young 1967, p. 180).

99. Phoenix etal. i939,p.38o.

100. Young continued to debate this question with both Beach and the Hampsons during the early 1960s. In 1961 and 1962, CRPS hosted two con­ferences, the organization’s last actions before going out of the sex-study busi­ness, work by then so fully supported by the National Science Foundation and the National Institute of Mental Health as to render CRPS obsolete. Following the conferences, CRPS ‘‘recommended to the Chairman of the Division of Medical Sciences that the Committee for Research in Problems of Sex be dis­charged when the book resulting from the Conference on Sex and Behavior has been prepared for publication’’ (Beach 1963, p. ix). Beach edited a volume that summarized the two meetings, and it is in this volume that we find Young and Hampson talking to each other, with Beach’s editorial hand clearly egging on the debate. For example, Young addressed John Hampson’s upcoming pa­per: ‘‘By ‘bisexuality’ I do not mean. . . that an individual can move equally well in one direction or the other’’ (here an asterix refers the reader to Hamp – son’s account of neutrality in the upcoming chapter). ‘‘I believe,’’ Young con­tinued, ‘‘that. . . the evidence in the clinical literature’’ and primates ‘‘will reveal a predominance of masculine characteristics in the genetic male, and a predominance of feminine characteristics in the female. . . . Even in human beings before the individual is born the stage’’ may be ‘‘set for selective re­sponsiveness to experiential and psychologic factors’’ (Young 1965, p. 103). Young reiterates this point in Young 1967. Beach twice flagged John Hamp – son’s rejection of the idea of ‘‘sex hormones as a single causal agent in the establishment of an individual’s gender role and psychosexual orientation’’ (p. 115), referring the reader back to Young’s discussion. Hampson concludes ‘‘that an individual’s gender role and orientation as boy or girl, man or woman, does not have an innate, preformed instinctive basis. . . .Instead. . . psychologic sex is undifferentiated at birth—a sexual neutrality one might say—and. . . the individual becomes psychologically differentiated as mas­culine or feminine in the course of the many experiences of growing up’’ (Hampson 1965, p. 119).

101. ‘‘The possibility must be considered that the masculinity or feminin­ity of an animal’s behavior beyond that which is purely sexual has developed in response to certain hormonal substances within the embryo and fetus’’ (Phoe­nix et al. 1959, p. 381; emphasis added).

102. Ibid., p. 381. The possibility that fetal or perinatal estrogen plays a role in the developing female brain remains in dispute to this day. See Fitch and Denenberg 1998; Fitch etal. 1998; Etgen et al. 1990; Fadem 1995; and Ogawa et al. 1997.

103. Van den Wijngaard 1991b.

104. Beatty 1992.

105. By the late 1960s, John Money and Anke Ehrhardt had applied the paradigm to the study of CAH girls (chapter 3). In a popular account of their work, they introduced the idea that prenatal androgen exposure masculinized the brains of XX kids exposed to high levels of testosterone in utero. Just as with the guinea pigs and rats, Money and his colleagues argued that prenatal hormones induced such girls to engage in a more masculine style of play (Money and Ehrhardt 1972). Also in this period, the German endocrinologist Gunther Dorner suggested that the new understandings proffered by the O/ A theory might offer a cure for homosexuality. Citing experiments showing that perinatal castration seemed to prevent masculinization of a rat’s brain, Dorner hoped that the same might be true for humans. ‘‘These results,’’ he wrote, ‘‘suggest. . . that male homosexuality may be prevented by androgen administration during the critical period’’ (Dorner and Hinz 1968, p. 388).

106. Young 1961, p. 1,223. Young wrote of the role of genes on female behavior: ‘‘As in the male, differences were seen in every measure of behavior studied: responsiveness to [hormone] treatment. . . , duration of induced heat. . . duration of maximal lordosis, and amount of male-like mounting’’ (Young 1961, p. I,2I^).

In order to obtain usable data, scientists often made their experimental animals more uniform. In one sense, then, working scientists produced a typi­cal account of sexual behaviors by systematically eliminating genetic diversity from their studies. A brief recent article on contemporary, commercially pro­duced laboratory rats notes that commercial companies have selected them to breed as rapidly as possible (thus increasing profit margins). As a result, they now average almost double what they used to weigh twenty years ago, and they die much younger. There is little doubt that this selective breeding has changed the physiology of our ‘‘standard’’ laboratory rat to meet both com­mercial and experimental needs. Thus scientific theories based on these rats—especially, I suspect, ones having to do with energy metabolism—are peculiarly structured to the laboratory. In this sense, we have ‘‘created’’ biol – ogy—i. e., the facts from which we will generalize attempts to devise medi­cines, diet regimes, and theories of biology will come from a peculiar creature that is subject only to human selections, not natural selection (see Wassersug 1996; Clause 1993).

Young cited especially his experiments on social isolation. These showed that for one genetic strain the development of mounting, intromission, and ejaculatory behaviors depended ‘‘almost completely… on the contact [the animals] had with other young animals’’ (Young 1961 ,p. i, 218).

107. Young 1964, p. 217. Of course, some researchers continued to ac­knowledge the importance ofsocial interactions and experience and to design experiments based on such acknowledgment. This was not, however, the reigning paradigm, and to many inside and outside the field, and to the general public, this other, more complex approach was indeed invisible.

108. Phoenix I978,p. 30.

109. During the 1960s, Beach continued to challenge the O/A and insist on adult bisexuality. He explained the evidence on lordosis by calling on neu­romuscular units developed before birth in both sexes: ‘‘They are present in both sexes and their organization during development is not dependent upon gonadal hormones’’ (Beach 1966, p. 532). As the male matures, the reflexes come under inhibitory influences that a variety of environmental circum­stances can release.

110. Money and Ehrhardt (1972) were anxious about the judgment of women’s liberationists, who, they noted, were not going to like all they had to say. Their book also has an odd index entry. Under ‘‘Women’s Liberation: Quotable Material,’’ they list the page locations of items that they apparently felt would bolster the feminist viewpoint (see p. 310). The psychologist Rich­ard Doty wrote a paper in which he called on researchers to extend more ‘‘equal opportunity’’ to female rodents (Doty 1974, p.169), while the psy­

chologist Richard Whalen expressed concern about whether his theories of gender formation in rodents were ‘‘sexist.’’ See, e. g., Whalen 1974, p. 468. In a symposium held in 1976 in honor of Beach’s sixty-fifth birthday, his student Leonore Tiefer infuriated Beach with a talk offering a feminist perspective on contemporary research. Later, when Beach read the piece, he apologized and suggested that her viewpoint was indeed worth listening to. See Tiefer 1978 and van den Wijngaard 1991.

in. During its first ten years of publication, Hormones and Behavior de­voted fully 80 percent of its research articles to hormones and gendered be­havior.

Supporters of the organizational theory, Beach suggested (1971), had got­ten carried away with the embryological metaphor, but Young and his follow­ers could not specify what, exactly, was being organized. He also found the notion that androgen organizes a brain (a male one, at that) problematic, sug­gesting that castration would thus disorganize the brain (and the female brain, at that). What, he wondered, could a disorganized brain imply? He pressed home his point with a doctored photo purporting to show disorganized neural pathways. He expressed concern about the loss of ‘‘hard-earned knowledge regarding relationships between gonadal hormones and behaviors. Many the­orists are so sadly and seriously affected with neurophilia (which in its termi­nal phases inevitably develops into cerebromania) that they are able seriously to entertain only those interpretations of behavior couched in the vocabulary of the neurologist’’ (Beach i97i, p. 286).

The published work offered a concentrated dose of his famous acid wit. But rather than burning a hole into the heart of the organizational theory, his words fell, I gather (from corresponding with some who were there), on somewhat embarrassed ears. Beach understood what the reception would be. He wrote: ‘‘No one is more fully aware than I that many readers will feel that I am tilting windmills’’ (Beach i97i, p. 291).

112. In his own history of the field, Beach carefully works his way around his earlier objections without citing the Beach i97i paper (Beach i98i). The remarkable nature of Beach’s silence can be seen in McGill et al. i978. This 436-page volume celebrating Beach’s sixty-fifth birthday contained articles on the current research of at least seventeen of his former students. Only one even referred to Beach’s critical article, and then only to mention a particular fact, not the critique itself.

There are, of course, microexplanations: (i ) a new breed of biochemists was taking over, and Beach knew little of the molecular approach, so he was off base, but his respectful junior colleagues were too kind to tell him so in public; (2) his article was so intemperate that it exceeded acceptable norms of behavior, and people chose to turn the other cheek rather than return the insults.

In addition to attacking linguistic ambiguities, Beach considered alternate explanations for results of experiments on early hormone treatment. He looked particularly at the claim that testosterone organized male and female copulatory behavior. He noted that androgen strongly affected the postnatal growth of the penis. Thus males castrated in infancy might later fail to achieve intromission and ejaculation because their penises were too small, not because their brains had failed to be masculinized. For more on the penis-size debate, see Beach and Nucci 1970; Phoenix et al. 1976; and Grady et al. 1965. In general, he argued that many of the experimental results achieved could have resulted from effects on the peripheral nervous system or genitalia rather than on the central nervous system. See, for example, Beach and Nucci 1970. In 1968, the first evidence suggesting that the brain was at least one component of the central nervous system involved in organizing behavior was published by Nadler. During the 1970s and early 1980s, additional evidence accumu­lated on this point. See Christensen and Gorski 1978; Hamilton et al. 1981; and Arendash and Gorski 1982. (Thanks to Elizabeth Adkins-Regan for this chronology.)

Beach further insisted that whatever the effects of early hormones in males, they did not permanently wipe out the neural connections needed to express lordosis. Perhaps, as he had suggested earlier, prenatal hormones changed the level of sensitivity of nerve cells to later hormone stimulation. But the meta­phor of mutually exclusive permanent electronic circuits (male or female) seemed untenable. Beach cited a study of male rats castrated as adults. Ac­cording to the O/A theory, these males should not exhibit lordosis even when stimulated by estrus-inducing hormones because their brains had been prop­erly masculinized in and around the time of birth. Indeed, normal quantities of estrogen did not elicit lordosis. However, a more prolonged series of injec­tions induced these castrated males to exhibit lordosis almost as frequently as normal females in estrus. He wrote: ‘‘It becomes increasingly apparent that neural mechanisms capable of mediating lordosis and possibly ancillary re­ceptive responses as well are organized in the central nervous system of male rats despite the presence of testis hormone during prenatal and early postnatal periods’’ (Beach i97i, p. 267).

113. Ibid., p. 270.

114. Beach i976,p. 261.

115. Beach and Orndoff 1974; Beach 1976.

116. Hart (1972) concluded that manipulation of neonatal androgen affected both penile development and the central nervous system.

117. Raisman and Field 1973.

118. Goy and McEwen 1980 ,p. 18. The conference that led to this book took place in i977.

119. Beach 1975.

120. Federi98i, p. 141.

121. Evaluating Beach’s critique in 1990, Michael Baum wrote:

Ironically, Beach’s warning that we should resist the temptation to attri­bute all steroid-induced changes in behavioral potential to structural changes in the central nervous system still has some merit in the beginning of the 1990’s. . . . While at present most workers would agree that the developmental effects of androgen on masculine coital responsiveness to adult steroids probably reflect a change in the nervous system, such behav­ioral changes cannot be localized in any of the rather limited current in­ventory of sexually dimorphic brain structures of the various mammalian species studied to date. Furthermore, some aspects of steroid-induced changes in mating potential may, as Beach predicted, result from the indi­rect perinatal action of androgens on the developing masculine genital organs.’’ (Baum 1990, pp. 204—5)

Balthazart et al. echo Baum’s point, writing, ‘‘in all model species… it is still impossible to identify satisfactorily brain characteristics that differentiate under early steroid action and explain the sex differences in behavioral activat­ing effects of steroids’’ (1996, p. 627). Cooke et al. (1998) and Schlinger (1998) make similar points.

122. For a good overview of these changes, see Chafe 1991. For specific information on the history of the U. S. gay liberation movement, see D’E – milio 1983.

123. Money and Ehrhardt i97 2,p. xi.

124. Doty 1974. Doty also noted that the sense of smell might be a key aspect of mating behavior totally unobserved by studies relying on visual com­ponents of behavior. One implication: some hormone effects might be medi­ated by changes in odor or odor responsiveness, rather than changes in the brain or central nervous system. This concern paralleled Beach’s interest in hormonal effects on peripheral sensory systems.

125. Doty was not the first to develop such a critique. Whalen and Nadler, for example, had called for better experimental definition of female receptiv­ity: ‘‘If receptivity is defined by the presence of spermatozoa in the vagina, some estrogen-treated females are receptive. If receptivity is defined by the rapid and easy elicitation of the lordosis response, spontaneous and hormone – induced receptivity is suppressed’’ (1965, p. 152). Whalen continued his methodological critiques during the 1970s. See, for example, Whalen 1976.

126. De Jonge 1995, p. 2. If a female is not in estrus, not even a much larger male can succeed in mating with her. Several researchers have empha­sized to me that a rodent male cannot succeed in mating with an unwilling female and that in some species a female may attack and even kill an unwel­come suitor.

127. Clark 1993b, p. 37. In the wild, an unwilling female hides in her burrow, while the interested male tries to entice her to emerge. In her test cage, with no possible escape, a female may respond aggressively, screaming and biting the male (Calhoun 1962; deJonge 1993).

128. Speaking at a symposium in honor of Young, held shortly after Young’s death, Beach noted the difficulty of proving the absence of a particular neural representation (Beach 1968). This seems to be a good example of his point. Under some circumstances the lordosis response was absent and pre­sumed missing because the neural substrate needed for it had been suppressed in early testosterone treatment. But under some experimental circumstances a positive result—frequent lordosis—appeared, thus suggesting that the neu­ral substrate was there after all.

129. Gorski i97i, p. 231.

130. ‘‘The rapidly increasing precision and sophistication in endocrino­logical techniques,’’ he wrote, ‘‘have not been accompanied by comparable advances in the definition and measurement of behavioral variables’’ (Beach I976, p. I03).

131. More recent work shows quite clearly that proceptive and receptive behaviors respond to different activating hormones in adulthood (de Jonge 1986; Clark 1993).

132. In a later (1977) paper, Madlafousek and Hlinak offered a thick de­scription—to borrow an anthropological term—of the various aspects of a female rat’s behavior as she proceeded through estrus. (A ‘‘thick description’’ offers a lot of detail out of which a nuanced interpretation is thought to emerge.)

133. Whalen 1974; Davis et al. 1979.

134. Whalen and Johnson 1990.

133. Bem 1974. The parallel between the 1974 Bem and Whalen publica­tions is striking: each noted the independence of masculinity and femininity. Whalen writes: ‘‘Bem and I had no contact about the ideas that we put forth at the time. The time must have been right’’ (personal communication, Sep­tember 19, 1996). SandraL. Bem writes: ‘‘I think the Zeitgeist. . . is probably another hypothesis that must be considered in addition to direct contact. . . . I’m quite sure that I had never met or talked to Whalen in the time period you’re asking about’’ (personal communication, September 28, 1996).

136. Goy and McEwen 1980 ,pp. 3, 6. They noted the new respectability afforded hormone research: ‘‘While there is still reasonable and serious dis­pute regarding the biological cause of different organizations of sexuality. . . hormonal hypotheses have earned a respectability that allows their inspection even for problems of human sexual behavior, a permission that was not readily granted by clinical workers a few decades ago.’’

137. Brain cells contain an enzyme called aromatase, which transforms testosterone into estrogen. Recent studies show that the hypothalamus of de­veloping male mice contains higher activities of aromatase than does that of developing female brains. This implies that some masculine behaviors may result from higher concentrations of estrogen in male than in female brains! The aromatase enzyme system is not distributed uniformly throughout the brain, and the multiple and complex roles of the sex steroids in their various molecular incarnations, as well as the enzymes that transform them and the various brain regions that contribute to their synthesis, still awaits some uni­form understanding or unifying hypothesis. See, for example, Naftolin et al. 1971; Naftolin et al. 1972; Naftolin and Ryan 1975; Naftolin and Brawer 1978; Naftolin and MacLusky 1984; and Hutchison et al. 1994.

While the conversion hypothesis produced a small tidal wave of research on estrogen production by various organs in the male, only a very small num­ber ofresearchers seem to have noticed that the results ought also to call for a reevaluation of the presence/absence hypothesis of male and female develop­ment. In 1978 one researcher raised the question ‘‘Is female sexual differenti­ation hormone-mediated?’’ and again in 1984, another pointed out that ‘‘sex­ual differentiation in males and females is hormone dependent (Dohler 1976, 1978; Dohler etal. 1984; Toran-Allerand 1984; emphasis in original).

138. Bell et al. 1981.

139. See, for example, the mixture of articles in Young and Corner 1961 or de Vries etal. 1984.

140. Beach emphasized the normal status of female mounting and urged it be studied as a typical female behavior. He also reasoned that humans had the neural mechanisms needed for same-sex attraction, although he thought that exclusively homosexual attractions resulted from the complexities ofcul – ture and experience (Beach 1968).

141. Kinsey et al. write: ‘‘Several investigators (Ball, Beach, Stone, Young et al.) have shown that the injection of gonadal hormones may modify the frequency with which an animal shows an inversion of behavior. . . . Among many clinicians this work has been taken to mean that the sex hormones con­trol the heterosexuality or homosexuality of an individual’s behavior. This, of course, is a totally unwarranted interpretation’’ (Kinsey etal. 1948, p. 613).

142. This is a culturally specific attitude. In many Latin American cul­tures, for example, only the receptive male is understood to be homosexual.

143. Nothing stirred up this debate more than Simon LeVay’s 1991 publi­cation. See also LeVay 1991; Byne and Parsons 1993; Byne 1993.

144. Adkins-Regan 1988. She noted that this distinction was often lost on medical researchers applying animal results to humans, despite many animal researchers having clearly articulated it in the past. See esp. p. 336 for this dis­cussion.

143. In one study, researchers removed the ovaries of adult females and then injected them with testosterone that had been chemically altered to pre­vent its conversion to estrogen, or progesterone. Female rats treated with the altered testosterone preferred to mate with males, but had no lordosis response, while progesterone facilitated both receptive (lordosis) and precep­tive (hopping and darting) behaviors, but did not induce male sexual prefer­ence. Thus in female rats, the mechanisms for sexual preference and actual mating behaviors differ. Furthermore, prenatal androgens seem to have no effect on the sexual orientation of female rats. Rather, the adult hormonal environment interacts with the rats’ prior experience (de Jonge et al. 1986; de Jonge et al. 1988; Brand et al. 1991; Brand and Slob 1991a and 1991b).

146. Francien de Jonge and her co-workers removed the ovaries of adult female rats, some ofwhich had had prior sexual experience and some ofwhich had not. They then induced sexual behaviors by injecting testosterone (or, for controls, plain oil). Inexperienced females preferred the company of males when they got testosterone but showed no preference without it, while fe­males with prior mount experience with other females continued to prefer females regardless of whether they received oil or testosterone. If, instead, their prior experience had been with males, they subsequently showed no particular sexual preference (de Jonge et al. 1986). Although adult hormones and prior experience seem to be the keys to female laboratory rat sexual pref­erence, in male lab rats, prenatal hormones assume a greater importance. Julie Bakker completed a series of experiments showing that male rats for whom the conversion of testosterone into estrogen is blocked at birth later develop strongly bisexual or asexual potentials. If left intact and put on the right kind of light/dark cycle, they will run back and forth between test males and test females, exhibiting both altered mating behaviors and altered prefer­ences. In adulthood, estrogen induces homosexual preferences in such males, while testosterone seems to permit greater bisexuality (Bakker 1996). Bakker also showed that, for males, social isolation from the moment of weaning to adulthood had no effect on sexual preference, although such isolation drasti­cally impaired sexual performance. Adult social interactions, however, did affect male sexual preference. Aromatase inhibitor-treated rats required phys­ical interactions with their potential partners in order to differentiate them­selves from control males. Although I have primarily used Bakker’s Ph. D. the­sis to write this section, much of her work also appears in the following publications: Brand and Slob 1991a and 1991b; Brand et al. 1991; Bakker et al. 1995a; Bakker, Brand, et al. 1993; Bakker, van Ophemert, et al. 1993; Bakker, 1995; and Bakker et al. 1994.

147. See, for example, LeVay 1996.

148. Schlinger 1998.

149. Wallen 1996.

150. The psychologist Gilbert Gottlieb (1997) summarizes his lifetime of experiments on the development of bird behaviors such as imprinting and applies the tradition of systems theory to his results. It’s a good read!

151. Ward 1992.

152. See, for example, Houtsmuller et al. 1994. There is a fairly large literature on the effects of location in the uterus on future behavior.

153. Gottlieb 1997.

134. Laviola and Alleva 1995.

155. Harris and Levine 1965.

156. DeJongeetal. 1988.

157. Harris and Levine 1965.

158. Feder1981.

159. Gerall et al. 1967; Valenstein and Young 1955; Hard and Larsson 1968; Thor and Holloway 1984; and Birke 1989.

160. For example, when nonovulating female rats were housed with sex­ually experienced males, they would not mate. But after 3 months of continu­ous cohabitation, 18 out of 60 of these females responded to male mounting (Segal and Johnson, cited in Harris and Levine 1965).

161. Ward 1992.

162. Moore et al. 1992. Moore describes the effects of early testosterone treatment as either a web or a cascade. Her model has no linear connections. The number of affected organs grows as hormones influence the scent glands and the brain early in the process and subsequently alter liver physiology, geni­tal anatomy, and muscle development. Finally maternal licking, overall body size, play, exploration, and self-grooming behaviors all interact with hor­monal effects. Thus, behavior results from the intersection of links among physiology, anatomy, and behavior. For example, maternal licking causes and is caused by the interrelationships between pup odor, pup urine production and retention, pup leg-extension behavior, maternal water and salt balance related to lactation and attraction to pup odor. The relationships are complex and decentralized. Hormones become part of a web that includes—among other things—experience, the brain, peripheral muscles, and general physi­ology (Moore and Rogers 1984; Moore 1990).

163. Drickamer 1992.

164. Moore and Rogers 1984; Moore 1990.

165. Arnold and Breedlove 1985.

166. Breedlove 1997, p.801. There are other hormone effects as well. Prenatal or perinatal testosterone treatment lowers thyroid function, affects the liver, and causes a wide variety of reproductive system abnormalities (Moore and Rogers 1984; Moore 1990; Harris and Levine 1965; de Jonge et al. 1988; de Jonge 1986).

167. Sodersten describes a strain of rats in which intact males exhibit sig­nificant levels of lordosis, often considered to be an exclusively female behav­ior, while van de Poll and colleagues report on one showing no hormonally induced alterations in aggressive behavior. Finally, Luttge and Hall and McGill and Haynes discuss strain differences in how mice respond to testosterone treatment (van de Poll et al. 1981; Sodersten 1976; McGill and Haynes 1973; Luttge and Hall 1973).

168. See, for example, Calhoun 1962; Berry and Bronson 1992; Smith, Hurst etal. 1994.

169. Geralletal. 1973.

170. Sodersten 1976.

171. Adkins-Regan et al. 1989.

172. De Jonge et al. 1988. This result is consistent with the report that an ovary present around puberty in either male or female rats facilitated the appearance of female behavior when the animals were examined as adults (Gerall et al. 1973).

173. Tobet and Fox 1992.

174. Toran-Allerand 1984, p. 63; emphasis added.

173. One correspondent who read this comment scoffed, suggesting it would be a waste of time to do long-term studies, since he was certain the outcome wouldn’t change. Given the current explosion of information on neural plasticity, I believe that long-term studies that manipulate environ­mental variables are quite appropriate.

176. Brown-Grant 1974.

177. Beach 1971.

178. Feder i98i, p. 143.

179. Arnold and Breedlove 1983.

180. Thor and Holloway 1984 review work on social play in juvenile rats.

181. The pituitary of adult female rats, for example, controls the repro­ductive cycle with periodic or cyclical secretions. In contrast, the male rat pituitary controls reproduction with a constant flow of hormones. Perinatal testosterone seems to permanently suppresses cyclicity in treated females, while castration of newborn males results in adults with a cyclically function­ing pituitary (Harris and Levine 1963). In primates, however, prenatal hor­monal effects on pituitary function are not permanent. Thus the development of sex differences in pituitary physiology differs in rats and primates. In the latter group, functional modulation in adulthood is possible (Baum 1979).

182. Feder 1981; Adkins-Regan 1988.

(Gender Becomes Chemical)

1. Parkes i966,p. 72; quoted in idem, 1966, p. xx.

2. Corner 1965.

3. Quoted in Hall 1976, p. 83, 84. The discussion in this paragraph is based on Hall’s article. Physicians dealt with ‘‘a myriad of complaints and abnormalities that defied classification as failures or over-activity of the go­nadal chemical messengers’’ (p. 83).

4. Cott 1987; Rosenberg 1982.

5. Noble 1977.

6. See, for example, Pauly’s discussion of the Wood’s Hole biological re­search laboratories as a summer resort providing scientists with a haven from the heartless city (Pauly 1988).

7. In February 1914, a group of women that included the journalist Mary Heaton Vorse, the psychologist Leta Stetter Hollingworth, the anthropologist Elsie Clews Parsons, and the socialist trade unionist Rose Pastor Stokes spon­sored the first ‘‘feminist mass meeting’’ with the title ‘‘What is feminism?’’ As another group member, Elizabeth Gurley Flynn, the famed socialist and organizer for the Industrial Workers of the World, put it, they wanted to see ‘‘the women of the future, big spirited, intellectually alert, devoid of the old femininity’’ (quoted in Cott 1987, p. 38). For more on Parsons and Holling­worth, see Rosenberg 1982.

8. Schreiner 1911. (My father, Philip Sterling, gave me a copy of Schrein­er’s book, when I was a young woman. It was his way of helping me to under­stand the economic basis of women’s inequality.)

9. She avoided charges of obscenity and incitement to murder and assassi­nation (Paul 1995). The latter seems especially ironic in view of her later funding relationship with the Rockefeller Foundation.

10. Goldman served many months in jail for distributing birth control information to impoverished women on New York’s Lower East Side and else­where around the country. While she espoused true equality between man and woman, Sanger promoted a different version of feminism, emphasizing the right to choose motherhood. Both her view of motherhood and her vision of the sacredness of women’s erotic desire grew out of her belief in the ‘‘abso­lute, elemental, inner urge of womanhood’’ (quoted in Cott 1987, p. 48).

11. Ibid. Alice Paul (1885—1977) was an American feminist who fought for passage of the nineteenth Amendment (women’s suffrage). Ellen Key (1849—1926) was a Swedish social feminist. Ruth Law was a popular and pio­neering aviatrix with strong feminist sympathies.

12. The ‘‘white slave trade’’ referred to organized crime rings that re­cruited young white women and forced them into lives of prostitution.

13. Quoted in Aberle and Corner 1953, p. 4.

14. For more on the relationship between Rockefeller and Davis, see Bul – lough 1988 and Fitzpatrick 1990. For more on the Rockefeller Foundation and the scientific study of social problems, see Kay 1993. Davis herself writes, ‘‘The Laboratory of Social Hygiene was established as one of the activities of the Bureau [of Social Hygiene] . . . the women at the State Reformatory. . . have led lives of sexual irregularity’’ (Introduction to Weidensall 1916).

15. While head of the Rockefeller Foundation, Vincent encouraged the development of the National Research Council, which only two years later created, with Rockefeller funding, the Committee for Research in Problems of Sex, the major funding vehicle for hormone biology research until 1940. See Noble i977.

16. Lewis i97i, p. 440.

17. In 1929, Davis’s own study, Factors in the Sex Life of2200 Women, ap­peared. In it she recounted the results of her studies on middle-class women. No topic, from masturbation to the high frequencies ofhomosexuality, to the sexual mores of everyday married life, seemed too delicate to tackle. Her frank, scientifically detached approach symbolized the transition to the scien­tific study of sex and sexuality.

18. Earl F. Zinn, recent graduate of Clark University, where he studied with the noted psychologist G. Stanley Hall, apparently came up with his ideas in a discussion with Max J. Exner, member of the professional staff of the YMCA and director of that organization’s Sex Education Committee. He had also authored a research study of the sexual behavior of college men (Ex – ner I9I5).

19. The NRC was organized to help prepare the nation for World War I. It was funded by the Engineering Foundation, which promoted scientific research for industry, and before the war’s end it sought to shift its work to meet the scientific needs of postwar industry. See Haraway 1989 and Noble 1977. See also note 15 on George Vincent and Katherine B. Davis.

While Yerkes was enthusiastic about the idea, the NRC’s Division of An­thropology and Psychology was not. Nor could he at first persuade the Divi­sion of Medical Sciences. But Yerkes persisted, finally convincing his col­leagues to call a conference to discuss the matter.

20. Aberle and Corner i933,pp. 12—13.

21. Ibid., p. 18.

22. Quoted in Clarke i998,p. 96.

23. The full story of the hijacking can be found in Clarke 1998. Lillie took advantage of an intellectual and strategic vacuum. He articulated his own vision, which looked good in the absence of any competition. Indeed, it was good, but much more limited than the initial vision for CRPS. He and Yerkes benefited mightily by the hijacking, for CRPS supported the research and that of their intellectual offspring (e. g., Moore and Price) for years to come.

24. Mitman (1992) suggests that part of Lillie’s motivation derived from his fears about his own social status: ‘‘Although born of a modest family, Lil­lie’s marriage to Frances Crane transported him across class lines into the social circles of the wealthy elite. He had much to gain in his espousal of the notion that the lower echelons of society not breed like rabbits, for they were the very class that threatened to undermine his own social lot’’ (pp. 98, 99). His wife militantly supported workers’ strikes, keeping company with well – known feminists such as Jane Addams. He carefully refrained from comment when his wife was arrested while protesting against ‘‘industrial slavery in America.’’ The American conflicts of the era came right into his home. For a brief discussion, see Manning 1983, pp. 39—61.

23. Quoted in Gordon 1976, p. 281. Statistic in idem. In truth, eugenic concerns had been a part of the birth control movement from the beginning. Paul writes that unexpired subscriptions of the American Journal of Eugenics were completed with subscriptions to Goldman’s Mother Earth (Paul 1993, p. 92 ). Both socialists and conservatives agreed that engineering healthy births was a legitimate social concern, not just a matter of individual choice. Never­theless, Sanger did ally herself with the more conservative wing of the eugen­ics movement, and at the same time she narrowed her feminist concerns in a manner most distressing to more radical feminists.

For more on the eugenics movement see Kevles 1983 and Paul 1993 and


26. Quoted in Haraway 1989, p. 69; emphasis added.

27. Quoted in Gould i98i, p. 193.

28. In 1916, Harvard denied tenure to Yerkes, apparently because the administration considered the field of psychology unworthy (Kevles 1983).

29. After working with Yerkes on IQ testing, Lewis Terman and his grad­uate student Catherine Cox Miles turned their attention to the measurement of masculinity and femininity. With funding from the Committee for Re­search in Problems of Sex, they constructed scales of masculinity and feminin­ity that they felt to be quantifiable and consistent. Contemporary social values make the Terman/Miles tests seem impossibly out-of-date. For instance, one gained femininity points if one found ‘‘dirty ears, smoking, bad manners, bad smells. . . words like ‘belly’ or ‘guts’ and the sight of dirty clothes dis­gusting.’’ One scored as more masculine if one disliked tall women, mannish women, or ‘‘women cleverer than you are’’ (Lewin 1984). Another of Ter – man’s students, Edward K. Strong, applied the concepts of relative masculin­ity and femininity to vocational interest. Farmers and engineers he found to have masculine interests, while ‘‘writers, lawyers, and ministers are essen­tially feminine.’’ ‘‘Are the differences,’’ he wondered, ‘‘in interests of engi­neers and lawyers to be found in differences in hormone secretions?’’ E. Low­ell Kelly, another of Terman’s students, tested the idea that homosexuality represented an inversion of male and female by comparing the Terman-Miles test scores of eleventh grade boys, ‘‘passive’’ male homosexuals, ‘‘active’’ male homosexuals, women ‘‘inverts,’’ and ‘‘superior women college ath­letes.’’ Kelly found no correlation between the degree of inversion of his sub­jects and their masculinity or femininity, but Terman urged him not to publish these results until he had become more professionally established. In the end, the ‘‘data were no match for the conviction that feminine women and homo­sexual men ‘must’ have a lot in common’’ (Lewin 1984, p. 166).

30. Gould 1981 and Kevles 1983 and 1968 document the stories of the development of mental testing and eugenics in considerable detail and offer detailed critiques of the administration, results, and conclusions drawn from these tests. Kevles writes: ‘‘Intelligence testers examined ever more paupers, drunkards, delinquents, and prostitutes. Business firms incorporated mental tests in their personnel procedures. . . and a number ofcolleges and universi­ties began to use intelligence-test results in the admissions process’’ (Kevles 1983, p. 82). Yerkes’s army intelligence tests provided new ammunition for the eugenics movement. Confirming already strongly held beliefs, those who analyzed Yerkes’s data concluded that the average mental age of the white American adult was just above that ofthe moron (a specific scientific category, not just an epithet hurled by eight-year olds). Southern Europeans and Ameri­can Negroes scored even lower. This new ‘‘scientific’’ information became part of the eugenicists’ rallying cry. They predicted the doom of white civili­zation, attributing the declining intelligence level to ‘‘the unconstrained breeding of the poor and feeble-minded, the spread of Negro blood through miscegenation and the swamping of an intelligent native stock by the immi­grating dregs of southern and eastern Europe’’ (Gould 1981, p. 196).

31. Borell 1978, p. 32.

32. Borell 1978 and 1987; Clarke 1991.

33. Katz (1993) notes a certain irony in the censorship and repression of birth control and other sex-related research in this period because, as he ar­gues, much of the research worked to establish a new role and definition for the concept of heterosexuality—one in which the heterosexual became nor­mal, while all other forms of sexuality became abnormal or perverse (see esp. p. 92).

34. Berman 1921 ,pp. 21—22.

33. Allen et al. 1939.

36. Others have discussed Lillie’s comments as well. See Oudshoorn 1994 and Clarke 1998.

37. Lillie i939,p. 3; emphasis added.

38. Ibid., pp. io, ii.

39. I used a database called Lexis-Nexis—Academic Universe, widely available at universities and research libraries.

40. Foreffects onbone growth, see Jilkaetal. 1992; Slootweg et al. 1992; Weismanetal. 1993; Ribot andTremollieres 1993; Wishartetal. 1993; Hos – hino et al. 1996; and Gasperino 1993. For effects on the immune system, see Whitacre et al. 1999.

A recent article in Discover magazine began: ‘‘Estrogen is more than a sex hormone. It boosts the brainpower of rats’’ (Richardson 1994). Indeed, the proliferation of steroid effects on brain cells is startling. One or another hor­mone affects the development of the cerebellum, the hippocampus, a number of centers within the hypothalamus, the midbrain, and the cerebral cortex. In fact, the cerebral cortex, not the gonads, is the major site of estrogen syn­thesis in the male zebra finch (Schlinger and Arnold 1991; Arai et al. 1994; Brownetal. 1994; Litteria 1994; MacLusky et al. 1994; McEwen et al. 1994; Pennisi 1997; Koenig et al. 1993; Wood and Newman 1993; Tsuruo et al. 1996; and Amandusson et al. 1993). For effects on blood cell formation, see Williams-Ashman and Reddi 1971 and Besa 1994; on the circulatory system, see Sitruk-Ware 1993; on the liver, see Tessitore et al. 1993; Gustafsson 1994; on lipid and carbohydrate metabolism, seeRenardetal. 1993; FuandHornick 1993; Haffner and Valdez 1993; and Larosa 1993; on gastrointestinal func­tions, see Chen et al. 1993; on the gallbladder, see Karkare et al. 1993; on muscle activities, see Bardin and Catterall 1981 and Martin 1993; on kidney activities, see Sakemi et al. 1993.

41. Koenig etal. i993,p. 1,300.

42 . For a thorough discussion of the popularization of sex hormones as part of the discourse of sexuality in the i920s, see Rechter i997. For more on the continued changes in sexuality in the i92os in America, see also D’Emilio and Freedman i988. On the biochemistry of androgens and estro­gens, see Doisy i939 and Koch i939.

43. Allen and Doisey i923. Allen was a major recipient of CRPS funds from i923 until i94o.

44. Stockard and Papanicolaou i9i7. The method involved using a cotton swab to remove cells from the vagina, and looking at the cells under the micro­scope. The type of cell changes during the estrous cycle in a manner that is reliable and quantifiable.

45. In this period, hormone research depended on ready access to large quantities of hormone-containing material. Those researchers who worked near slaughterhouses—e. g., in Chicago or St. Louis—had a big advantage. Later, when hormones were found in animal and human urine, those who could command large quantities of the urine became key brokers. For a fasci­nating discussion of the role of access to research material in the purification of sex hormones, see Oudshoorn 1994 and Clarke 1995.

46. Allen and Doisey 1923, pp. 820, 821. The marketing of hormone potions had become something of an embarrassment to the medical commu­nity. One reason to put the study of organ extracts on an arguably scientific basis was to defend the professional honor and status of the medical commu­nity (Unsigned 1921a and 1921b).

47. Frank i929, p. 135.

48. Ascheim and Zondek 1927.

49. Both groups also had the support of major pharmaceutical companies (Oudshoorn 1994).

50. Parkes 1966b; Doisy 1939, writes: ‘‘one of the major events upon which the isolation of the hormone depended was the discovery of material existing in the urine of pregnant women’’ (p. 848).

In 1928, progesterone, a second ovarian hormone, was identified. By the mid-1930s it too had been purified. (For simplicity sake, I am leaving proges­terone, the menstrual cycle, and its connection to the brain and pituitary hormones [FSH and LH] out of the story.)

51. See the articles in section C: ‘‘Biochemistry and Assay of Gonadal Hormones’’ ofAllenetal. 1939.

52. Frank i929,p. 114.

53. Note the use of the word normal. Presumably female hormones in male bodies could produce abnormalities (such as homosexuality?).

54. The editorial states: ‘‘This raises, of course, the question of specificity and whether the vaginal reactions so largely used in the laboratory study of these hormones in recent years are really reliable criteria of ovarian hormone action’’ (Unsigned i928,p. 1,195).

55. See Oudshoorn 1994, p. 26.

56. Zondek 1934. Thirty-two years later, Zondek vividly recalled his as­tonishment. Throughout his life he remained unable to understand why all that female hormone did not feminize the stallion. See Finkelstein i966,p. ii.

57. Oudshoorn i99o. See, for example, Womack and Koch i932. By i937, it was clear that the ovary itself was the site of testosterone production in the female (Hill i937aand i937b).

58. Nelson and Merckel i937 ,p. 825. Klein and Parkes ^937) found the effects of testosterone in females mimicked the activity of progesterone, a result they found ‘‘unexpected’’ (p. 577) and ‘‘anomalous’’ (p. 579). See also Deanesly and Parkes i936.

39. Frank and Goldberger 1931 ,p. 381.

Oudshoorn (1994) provides the basis for much of my discussion in this paragraph. See also Parkes i966a, b.

60. Parkes i966a, b.

61. Frank i9 29,p. 197.

62. Parkes 1966b, p. xxvi.

63. This account is based on Frank 1929; Allen et al. 1939 and Ouds­hoorn 1994.

64. See also Stone 1939.

63. Chemistry 1928; Laqueur and de Jongh 1928.

66. Koch 1931b, p. 939.

67. Pratt 1939.

68. Frank (1929) writes: ‘‘Assay and biological standardization of the water-soluble commercial extracts now placed upon the market show a woe­ful lack of potency and rapid deterioration of the products. Unpleasant local reactions may arise at the site of injection. The prices of these pharmaceutical preparations are prohibitive. Consequently I warn against their general use until better products are at our disposal’’ (p. 297).

69. While CRPS funded most of the U. S. work, pharmaceutical compa­nies often provided researchers with purified hormone preparations. Koren – chevsky et al. 1932, p. 2,097, for example, thank ‘‘Messrs Schering Ltd for kindly supplying this preparation.’’ Squibb gave a fellowship to F. C. Koch for 1923—26 (see Koch 1931 ,p. 322) and Deanesly and Parkes (1936) note their debt to ‘‘Messrs. Ciba for supplies of the substances referred to above’’ (p. 238).

70. Parkes 1966b, p. xxii.

71. Dale 1932 ,p. 122. At the conference it was also decided that a central standard sample would be kept by Dr. Guy Marrian at the University College in London in sealed ampoules filled with dry nitrogen. They set a minimum number of twenty animals, which had to be used in any valid test, and they standardized the solvents and method of administration of test substances.

72. Oudshoorn i994,p. 47.

73. Korenchevsky and Hall 1938, p. 998. Additional non-reproductive effects are noted in Evans 1939.

74. David etal. i934,p. 1,366.

73. Gustavson i939, pp. 877—78. See also Gautier i935.

76. Oudshoorn i994, p. 33. See also Koch i939, pp. 830—34.

77. Juhnetal. i93i, p. 393.

78. Kahnt and Doisy proposed a complex series of steps to make the es- trus assay work reliably. First, they had to check potential test rats for several weeks and choose only those with normal cycles. Second, they had to check for two weeks after removing the ovaries and discard any animals that still showed signs of internal hormone production. Third, they primed their test animals with injections of two rat units of hormone. Fourth, they tested each animal one week later with another injection; any that failed to respond were discarded as test animals. Fifth, another week later, they injected an amount of hormone too small to produce a result. If there was a response anyway, those animals were also discarded. Finally, they recommended using ‘‘a sufficient number of animals. If 73 per cent of the animals. . . give a + reac­tion, consider that the amount injected contained one R. U.’’ (Kahnt and Doisy 1928, pp. 767—68). The League of Nations conference also noted the importance of using a large sample size.

79. Korenchevsky et al. i932,p. 2,103.

80. Gallagher and Koch i93i, p. 319.

81. In one of the early articles on isolation of the testicular hormone, the authors wrote: ‘‘It is our feeling that until more is known of the chemical nature of the hormone, no name should be given to the extract. As yet, any name would be valueless and not at all descriptive’’ (Gallagher and Koch

p. 500).

82. Frank 1929, p. 128. The list of terms comes from Frank’s discussion onpp. 127—28.

83. In earlier work I comment on the imbalance between the terms andro­gens and estrogens; this discussion focuses on the particular historical moment in which the imbalance took hold. See Fausto-Sterling 1987 and 1989. The information on the Index Medicus comes from Oudshoorn 1990, p. 183, n. 66.

84. Parkes 1966b, p. xxiii. Parkes tells a similar story about the naming of the hormone progesterone. The 1961 edition of Stedman’s Medical Dictionary defines an androgen as an agent ‘‘which makes a man’’ and an estrogen as one which ‘‘begets mad desire.’’

83. Corner i96^,p. xv.

86. ‘‘The Council desires to express its appreciation to Parke, Davis and Company, for its action in this matter as well as in the case of the name ‘es­trone’ ’’ (Chemistry i936,p. 1,223).

87. Doisy I939, p. 839.

8 8. Parkes i938 ,p. 36. This would have provided an exact parallel to the term androgenic.

89. Koch i939.

90. Korenschevsky et al. i937. This group also found many of these hor­mones to cooperate in producing their effects (Korenchevsky and Hall i937).

91. Parkes i93 8,p. 36.

92. Because the embryo was bisexual and even adults retained a bit of that bisexual potential. ‘‘Even men whose instinct is normally heterosexual,’’ he wrote, ‘‘may contain in their organisms minute vestigia of a female character even though under normal conditions they never come to functional expres­sion’’ (Steinach i940, p. 9i).

93. While most readers are probably aware that such cycles regulate the menstrual cycle, they may be less aware that feedback loops involving the same pituitary hormones also regulate sperm formation in males.

94. In 1939,he wrote: ‘‘Moore seems to remove the necessity of assuming any antagonism in the simultaneous action of the two hormones, by showing that each operates independently within its own field’’ (Lillie 1939, p. 38).

93. Frank i929,p. 120.

96. Quoted in Oudshoorn 1994, p. 28.

97. Parkes 1966b, p. xxvii.

98. Crew I93 3, p. 23I.

99. See Cott i987,p. 149. Davis (i929)offers amore detailed discussion of women’s sexual practices.

100. Cott i987,p. 130.

101 . Cott (i987) documents a real split in the labor movement over this issue. It was a split that replayed itself among late twentieth-century feminists during their battle over the Equal Rights Amendment and the elimination of protective work legislation.

102 . Quoted in ibid.

103. David etal. i934,p. 1,366.

104. Quoted in Oudshoorn i990.

Chapter 6: Sex Glands, Hormones, and Gender Chemistry

1. De Kruif 1945, pp. 225—26. De Kruif received his Ph. D. from the Uni­versity of Michigan in 1916. Until the early 1920s he taught and practiced science in a university setting. His first book, Our Medicine Men, apparently got him fired from the Rockefeller Institute and he thereafter devoted himself to science writing. He provided Sinclair Lewis with the background for Lewis’s classic Arrowsmith (192 5). (See Kunitz and Haycraft 1942 for further biograph­ical detail.) In a sense he contributed to the writing of this book, since his Microbe Hunters (1926) was among the many books my parents kept in our household as part of an ultimately successful plan to encourage both my brother and me to become scientists ourselves.

2. Quoted in Fausto-Sterling 1992b, pp. iio—ii.

3. See Wilson i966.

4. Oudshoorn i994, p. 9. Progesterone has been added to the estrogen pill to prevent possible increases in uterine cancer caused by estrogen alone.

5. De Kruif i945, pp. 86—87. Frank Lillie stated the same case in more sober fashion when he referred to testosterone as ‘‘the specific internal secre­tion of the testis’’ and estrogen as the ‘‘specific internal secretion of the cortex of the ovary.’’ He added: ‘‘As there are two sets of sex characters, so there are two sex hormones, the male hormone controlling the ‘dependent’ male characters, and the female determining the ‘dependent’ female characters’’

(Lillie I939, pp. Q ii).

6. Cowley i996,p. 68.

7. Angier i994, p. Ci3. See also Star-Telegram i999; France i999.

8. Sharpe i997; Hess et al. i997.

9. Angier i997a.

10. For a beautifully detailed history of reproductive science in the twen­tieth century, see Clarke i998.

ii. Again, I use the idea that most scientific choices are underdeter­mined— that is, the actual data do not completely mandate a particular choice between competing theories, thus enabling the sociocultural valence of a par­ticular theory to contribute to its attractiveness. See, for example, Potter i989.

i2. I am indebted to Adele Clarke for pointing me to the sociological literature on social worlds. Sociologists use a ‘‘social worlds view’’ as a method of analyzing work organization, but here and in the following chapter I look instead at the implications for the production of scientific knowledge of studying the intersection of different social worlds. See Strauss 1978; Gerson 1983; Clarke 1990a; and Garrety 1997. Gerson defines social worlds as ‘‘ac­tivities carried out in common with respect to a particular subject or area of concern’’ (p. 339).

13. For more on castrati, see Heriot 1973. The eerie, tremulous voice of the last castrato known to have sung at the Vatican may be heard on the CD ‘‘Alessandro Moreschi: The Last Castrato, Complete Vatican Recordings’’ (Pavilion Records LTD, Pearl Opal CD 9823). Moreschi died in 1922. The original recordings are at the Yale University Collection of Historical Sound Recording.

14. Ehrenreich and English 1973; Dally 1991. From 1872 to 1906, 130,000 women had their ovaries removed. Among the crusaders who finally ended the practice of ovary removal was America’s first woman doctor, Eliza­beth Blackwell.

13. De Kruif 1943, pp. 33, 34. See also Berthold’s original publication (Berthold 1849).

16. Corner 1963.

17. Borell i976,p. 319.

18. Borell 1983.

19. Even in 1923, in their publication of what came to be seen as the definitive demonstration of a hormone produced by the ovarian follicles, Ed­gar Allen and Edward A. Doisey expressed skepticism: ‘‘There appears to be no conclusive evidence of either a definite localization of the hypothetic hormone or of the specific effect claimed for the commercial ovarian extracts in wide clinical use. The recent reviews of Frank and of Novak maybe cited to illustrate the well founded skepticism concerning the activity of commercial preparations’’ (Allen and Doisey i9 2 3,pp. 819—20).

Practicing gynecologists continued to push the point. Two Viennese prac­titioners, for example, reported that implanted ovaries could prevent the de­generation of the uterus, which otherwise followed removal of the female gonads.

20. The reevaluation resulted from new experimental approaches and the success of thyroid and adrenal extracts for treatment of certain forms of disease.

21. Quoted in Borell 1983 ,p. ii. By 1907, Schafer had also come around. In an address to the Pharmaceutical Society of Edinburgh he argued that ‘‘It mightbe. . . supposed that this arrested development of. . . accessory organs [i. e., degeneration of the uterus] is the result of the cutting off of nervous influences, which are carried by the testicular and ovarian nerves.’’ But, he went on, ‘‘the only rational explanation. . . is contained in the assumption that the grafted organ produces… an internal secretion, which by virtue of the hormones it contains . . . can materially influence the development and structure of distant parts.’’ Quoted in Borell 1985, pp. 13—14. See also Bor – ell 1978.

22. See Noble 1977; Sengoopta 1992, 1996, and 1998; Porter and Hall 1993; Cott i987.

23. On Europe, see Chauncey 1983, 1989, and 1994; D’Emilio and Freedman 1988; Sengoopta 1992. For an excellent Web site with information on the history of sexology, see http://www. rki. de/GESUND/ARCHIV/TES- THOM2.HTM, which is part of the Web site of the Robert Koch Institute in Germany.

For a discussion of the crisis and its relationship to American biology, see Pauly 1988 ,p. 126. For additional discussion of the construction of ideologies of masculinity in this period, see Halberstam 1998. See also Dubbert 1980.

24. Pauly 1987; Lunbeck 1994; Benson et al. 1991; Rainger et al. 1988; Noble 1977; Fitzpatrick 1990. For information on the origins of Rockefeller and Carnegie philanthropy, see chapter i of Corner 1964.

23. Sengoopta 1996, p. 466. For an account of the German women’s movement in this period see Thonnessen 1969. The crisis in masculinity was international. See Chauncey i989,p. 103.

26. Sengoopta 1996; Gilman 1994.

27. Sengoopta 1998.

28. On England, see Porter and Hall 1993. On the United States, see D’Emilio and Freedman 1988 and Chauncey 1989.

29. Nineteenth-century embryologists believed that, although they started from a common point, male embryos were more complex and better developed, while female differentiation was ‘‘only of a trivial kind.’’ Oscar Hertwig, quoted in Sengoopta 1992 ,p. 261.

30. Sengoopta 1992, 1996. See also Anderson 1996.

31. Carpenter 1909, pp. 16—17. The reproductive biologist Walter Heape suggested in 1913 that Carpenter’s worst fears of antagonism between the sexes had, in fact, been realized. Weininger published an algebraic formula to explain sexual attractions. He was not a fan of feminism and believed women to be by nature inferior to men. Carpenter was on the other side of the political fence, and he and his supporters derided the formulaic nature of Weininger’s work. Nevertheless, their biological theories were not so differ­ent. See Porter and Hall 1993.

32. Sengoopta1996.

33. Weir 1893, pp. 820, 823. Note that Weir’s biological theory differs from Weininger’s, but his metaphysics of gender is the same.

Other biologists, psychologists, and physicians also used the accusation of lesbianism to attack feminism. Dr. John Meagher, for example, wrote ‘‘the driving force in many agitators and militant women who are always after their rights, is often an unsatisfied sex impulse, with a homosexual aim. Married women with a completely satisfied libido rarely take an active interest in mili­tant movements.’’ Quoted in Cott i987,p. 159.

34. In a Catch-22, pointing to talented women did not help anyone ar­guing that women and men have the same capabilities, since the counter­argument would be that it was the male elements in their bodies that gener­ated the talent.

35. For more on female masculinity in this period see, Halberstam 1998.

36. Marshall i9io, p. i. For more on Marshall and the significance of his text, see Borell 1985 and Clarke 1998.

37. As late as 1907, a great deal of scientific debate existed about just what the ovaries did. Did they affect the uterus? Were they responsible for menstrual cycles? Did they work via nervous connections? See Marshall’s ex­periments and literature review in Marshall and Jolly 1907.

38. Geddes and Thomson 1895, pp. 270—71. Geddes and Thomson also influenced sexual politics in America. One early sociologist based his Ph. D. thesis on their theories of metabolic differences between the sexes (Thomas 1907); Jane Addams turned their ideas to feminist use by insisting that mod­ern civilization needed feminine skills with which nature had endowed women. For a discussion of the American scene, see Rosenberg 1982, pp. 36—43.

Marshall also turned to the latest hot science, citing, for example, the up and coming Thomas Hunt Morgan as an important source, thus showing that while he relied on those who had gone before, he was also forward-looking. Morgan founded the modern field of Mendelian genetics. He was among a small group of scientists who put American science on a modern footing. See Maienschein 1991.

39. Marshafl I9I0s pp. 655, 657.

40. Heape 1913. For more on Heape’s role from a sociological point of view, see Clarke i998.

41. Between 1905 and 1915, in U. S. cities large and small, more than 100,000 female garment workers went on strike. ‘‘Wage-earning women— most of them Jewish and Catholic immigrants—filled the streets of cities on picket lines, packed union halls, and marched in parades, asking for economic justice. . . for an end to deadly sweatshop conditions. . . and some hours of leisure’’ (Cott i987,p. 23). The famous cry of the women strikers ‘‘Give Us Bread, ButGiveUs Roses’’ was revived and honored by feminists in the i970s. The implication was that for women the issue was not merely economic; it was about their social and sexual status as well.

42. Ida Wells Barnett’s anti-lynching campaign ran from i9i8 to i9 27. See Sterling i979.

43. My local favorite is that in Providence, Rhode Island, in 1910 Jewish immigrant housewives ‘‘declared war against the kosher butchers.’’ Quoted in Cott i987,p. 31.

44. Cott I987, p. 32.

43. Even sending them to jail did no good. From prison they staged hun­ger strikes, which brought on the specter of forced feeding. This only further insulted Victorian mores, which put a premium on treating women like ladies, something hard to square with stuffing a feeding tube down an unwilling throat.

46. Heape 1913 ,p. i. Heape originally trained as an embryologist. Hence the ideas of nineteenth-century embryology—that female development was less significant or difficult than male development— would have been familiar to him. He was also on the cusp of the new endocrinology, and thus did not incorporate it fully into his theories of gender. See Marshall 1929.

47. Heape i9i4,p. 210.

48. Heape borrows from Geddes and Thomson here: ‘‘The Male and the Female individual may be compared in various ways with the spermatozoa and ovum. The Male is active and roaming, he hunts for his partner and is an expender of energy; the Female is passive, sedentary, one who waits for her partner and is a conserver of energy’’ (Heape i9i3,p. 49).

49. Heape i9i4, p. ioi, io2. (This passage continues with a diatribe about why women should not try to overdevelop their masculine parts. It contains the usual: too much education, independence, public visibility, will lead to sterility, insanity, etc.)

30. Bell i9i6,p. 4; emphasis in the original.

31. See Dreger i998,pp. i38—66.

32. Bell writes: ‘‘The mental condition of a woman is dependent on her metabolism; and the metabolism itself is under the influence of the internal secretions’’ (Bell i9i6,p. ii8). Other quotes in paragraph from pp. i2o, i28, i29. Bell traces scientific views of woman as being driven by her uterus (van Helmont: Propter solum uterum mulier est quod est), to her ovaries (Virchow: Propter ovarium solum mulier est quod est), and finally to Bell’s new modification (Propter secretiones internas totas mulier est quod est) (p. i29). See also Porter and Hall i993.

33. For a summary of transplantation experiments done from the late i8oos until i907, see Marshall and Jolly i907.

34. Allen i973; Maienschein i99i; Sengoopta i998.

33. Hall i976; Sengoopta i998. Steinach also provoked considerable con­troversy with his Steinach Operation: in reality, nothing more than a vasec­tomy, which he claimed could rejuvenate aging men. It was an enormously popular operation, undergone by Sigmund Freud, W. B. Yeats, and many oth­ers. The historian Chandak Sengoopta describes the history of this moment: ‘‘The history of research on aging and its prevention, therefore, is not simply a story of quackery. Nor, of course, does it fit the stereotype of science as a purely rational activity. It is more realistic (and rewarding) to view it as a very human phenomenon, in which the fear of old age and death interacted with the modernist faith in science to open a strange but not necessarily irrational field of research’’ (Sengoopta i993,p. 63). See also Kammerer 1923.

36. For a list of his bibliography with titles and summaries in English, see Steinach 1940. This list may also be found on the World Wide Web: http:// www. rki. de/GESUND/ARCHIV/TESTHOM2 .HTM.

37. He repeated this phrase in many of his publications. But an early ex­ample of its use may be found in Steinach 1910, p. 366.

38. Steinach 1913a, p. 311. (‘‘Bekampfung der antagonistischen Wirkung der Sexualhormone” and ‘‘schroffe Antagonismus’)

39. Steinach 1912, 1913a.

60. Perhaps he found differences in guinea pigs because their organs were more developed at the time ofimplantation, and thus he could measure ovary – induced shrinkage. Nevertheless, at the time, ovarian effects differed in rats and guinea pigs. What requires explanation is why Steinach went for an over­arching theory of hormone antagonism based on data that were still fuzzy. (Today, hormone researchers are aware that the timing of sexual development is very different in rats and guinea pigs, and could easily explain the differences in Steinach’s results.)

61. The Danish scientist Knut Sand explained his own similar results as ‘‘a kind of immunity of the normal organism from the heterological gland.” ‘‘These phenomena do not, I think, point so much to a real antagonism’’ (Sand 1919 ,p. 263). He offered a more detailed account of how this immunity might work. Steinach disputed Sand and, later, so did Moore. In an autobiography, written at the end of his life, Steinach cited Sand more favorably, but totally snubbed Moore.

62 . ‘‘I asked myself the question whether and within which borders this harsh antagonism of sex hormones could be influenced, e. g., could be weak­ened, and in my experiments I started from the assumptions that there should be a substantial difference if a gonad is transplanted into an animal which is also affected by its normal puberty glands, thus having its homologous hor­mones flow through it, or if the masculine and feminine gonads are put to­gether in a previously neutered organism and from there, under equal and indeed equally unfavorable conditions of function and existence forced to bat­tle it out. The results of the experiments to be described confirm the correct­ness of this assumption.’’ [Steinach 1913 ,p. 311; my translation]

63. IbidM p. 32o.

64 . Ibid., p. 322 .

63. Steinach 1940, p. 84.

66. At the time, nobody knew whether the gonads produced only one or several substances. Or that gonadal secretions were controlled, in turn, by the activity of the hypophysis (the neurosecretory portion of the pituitary). Indeed, the results were confusing, and Steinach never explained why sex antagonism seemed to disappear under these circumstances.

67. Steinach (1913b) also elaborates on the importance of this work for theories of human sexuality. He engages in dialogue with theorists of human sexuality such as Albert Moll, Richard von Krafft-Ebing, Sigmund Freud, Iwan Bloch, and Magnus Hirschfeld. His suggestion that homosexuality can be attributed to secretions of female cells in the testes led to human trans­plants, mentioned earlier in this chapter.

68. Quoted in Herrn i993,p. 43.

69. The German sexologist and pioneer for homosexual rights, Magnus Hirschfeld, took to Steinach’s ideas like a duck to water. Hirschfeld had al­ready placed the biological responsibility for homosexuality at the doorstep of hormones that he named andrin and gynacin. He wanted to confirm Steinach’s ideas by examining testicular tissue from homosexual men, but it was Steinach with Lichtenstern who performed the ultimate experiment (Herrn 1993, p. 43).

The donors in these experiments were ‘‘normal’’ men with undescended testes that required removal (Sengoopta 1998).

70. Herrn 1993. Additional material on Steinach may be found in Steinach 1940; Benjamin 1943; Schutte and Herman 1973; Schmidt 1984; and Sengoopta 1992, 1993, 1996, and 1998.

71. An editorial in The Lancet, for example, described Steinach’s experi­ments and wrote: ‘‘Around these findings the theory has been constructed that the products of internal testicular and ovarian secretion—that is, the specific reproductive hormones of the two sexes—are sharply antagonistic to one another. The conclusions want more evidence to back them’’ (anony­mous 1917).

72. Lillie became an important member of a new generation of American-trained biologists devoted to the experimental life. He received his Ph. D. at the University of Chicago under the tutelage of C. O. Whitman, who founded the Zoology Department there. By the time he began his freemartin work, Lillie had become chairman of the same department, as well as a key figure at the Wood’s Hole Marine labs, through which many of the key players in embryology and genetics passed in this period.

Although from a modest middle-class home himself, Lillie had married Frances Crane, sister of Chicago plumbing magnate Charles R. Crane. The Lillies’ great wealth not only put Lillie in the social circles of the ruling elite—including the Rockefellers, who funded the vast majority of his life’s work—but it enabled him to use his own private (by marriage) fortune to build new laboratory space (the Whitman lab) at the University of Chicago. He chaired the Zoology Department there from 1910 to 1931, when he be­came Dean of Biological Sciences before retiring in 1936. As head of the Ma­rine Biological Institute at Wood’s Hole, he also obtained donations from his brother-in-law to build additional laboratory space (Crane Laboratory).

73. See Oudshoorn 1994 and Clarke 1998 for discussions of the impor­tance of access to research materials in the history of sex hormone research. Kohler (1994), for example, shows how the very nature of genetic knowledge was shaped by scientists’ interaction with the fruit fly, as they trained it from a somewhat unruly wild fly to become a domestic collaborator in the laboratory.

74. See Clarke 1991 andMitman 1992 for a discussion of Lillie’s freemar – tin work. See also Lillie 1916, 1917.

73. Lillie 1917, p. 413. See also Hall 1976.

76. Lillie i9i7,p. 404.

77. Ibid., p. 413. In this classic paper, Lillie republished (with citation) the previously published data of his student, Ms. C. J. Davies. The genesis of freemartins continued to be debated for decades, and is still unresolved. Although most of Lillie’s conclusions still offer a ‘‘best fit,’’ there is no perfect fit (Price 1972).

78. Lillie 1917. Lillie writes ‘‘how much of the subsequent events is due to mere absence of the ovarian tissue, and how much to positive action of male sex-hormones is more or less problematical’’ (p. 418).

79. Price 1974, p. 393. Moore would later succeed Lillie as chair of the department at Chicago. For a biographical sketch of Moore, see Price 1974.

80. Moore 1919, p. 141. Moore describes in this passage the problem of variability and group difference discussed in chapter 3. He also cites work published between i909 and i9i3 showing that early spaying of a female causes her to grow larger. Thus ‘‘a spayed female with grafted testis would increase in weight above the normal for females not because of the testis but because of the absence of the ovary’’ (p. i42). We have no way of knowing whether Steinach read these papers to which Moore refers, and if so how he might have integrated them into his own conclusions.

8i. Steinach’s dramatic results on mammary development came from guinea pigs, because male rats do not have primordial teats able to respond to ovary implants. Moore suggests that his differences with Steinach could have resulted from their using different strains of rat. Steinach notes that he bred his guinea pigs ‘‘in such a manner as to produce animals of much the same type’’ (Steinach 1940, p. 62). It seems likely that Steinach also bred his rats to be more uniform. Perhaps he simply did not have as much variability in his colonies as did Moore. Here is another important aspect of the story. If we breed test animals to exaggerate differences we expect, then find the physio­logical causes of such differences, how much can we extrapolate back to more variable populations? For more on the history of rat colonies, see Clause 1993.

82. Moore 1919, p. 131. In a later paper he reemphasized this point ‘‘I wish again to emphasize the absolute unreliability of closely graded indica­tions of psychical behavior of rats and guinea pigs as an indication of their sexual nature’’ (Moore i9 2o, p. 181).

83. Moore also chased after Steinach’s theories on aging (see note 33). See Price 1974 for a discussion of this work.

84. Moore I922,p. 309.

83. Steinach and Kun 1926 ,p. 817.

86. Moore and Price i93 2,pp. 19, 23.

87. Ibid., p. 19.

8 8. This understanding had been presaged in earlier publications, but it is the i932 paper that provides the detailed experimental support. See Moore i92ia, b,c and Moore and Price 1930. By this time Moore’s work was sup­ported by grants from the Committee on Research in Problems of Sex (dis­cussed later in this chapter and in chapter 7).

89. In this discussion I am following one important tradition of modern science studies by taking the ‘‘loser’’ in a scientific dispute seriously. For more on this approach, see Hess i997,pp. 86—88.

90. Moore wrote: ‘‘Many difficulties are involved in an intelligent anaylsis [sic] of the psychical nature of animals and there is a very great danger of the personal equation influencing an interpretation’’ ( i92i, p. 383).

91. For the moment this is a hypothesis, but further historical work on Moore could provide evidence for or against it. Clarke quotes Moore as writ­ing that ‘‘we are beginning to think that sex is very much less stable than we had previously considered it’’ (Clarke i993, p. 396).

92. According to the historian Chandak Sengoopta, Steinach believed these cells were the source of the male hormone and was attacked for years by influential scientists for this belief (personal communication, i999).

93. When the social co-produces the biological, it is not necessarily to ill effect (although I have spent important years of my life discussing cases for which the effect is horrifying). I consider the argument about sex hormone antagonism productive because it stimulated new experiments and, ulti­mately, an account of hormone physiology that accommodated more of the experimental results. Nor have I really told the entire story, because I have not offered a detailed social interpretation of Moore and Price. To do so would be beyond the scope of this book.

94. I’m drawing on Jonathan Harwood’s framework of styles of scientific thought, which he applied to German geneticists in this same period. Did Moore and Steinach have different ‘‘thought styles,’’ leading them in different scientific directions and to different modes of experimentation? See Har­wood i993.

93. At least one popular science book explicitly discussed Moore’s exper­iments, including his conclusions that the hormones did not exhibit sex antag­onism (Dorsey i923). This book provides an apparently neutral account of human biology, with virtually none of the social hysteria evident in earlier books, such as those by Heape and Bell.

96. Steinach 1940.

97. In Hausman 1995.

98. Benjamin 1945, p. 433. The obituary is more than a little hagio – graphic. Benjamin writes in the final paragraph: ‘‘When Steinach approached the ‘dangerous’ problem of sex physiology, all the sex taboos and prejudices of his day were arrayed against him,’’ just as ‘‘in the times of Copernicus and Galileo, of Darwin, Haeckel and Freud’’ (p. 442).

99. De Kruif i945,p. 116.

How Biologists Make a Difference

1. For a general discussion of the problems of visibility and observation in science, see Hacking 1983.

2. Arguments about body structure are not new. In the nineteenth cen­tury some well-known biologists poured lead shot into empty skulls and then held forth on which group of people (males or females, blacks or whites) had larger skulls. The idea was that the larger skulls held larger brains and that the larger the brain, the smarter the person. See Gould 1981 and Russett 1989. Although the claims that there are racial differences in brain structure are made less frequently, they do occasionally appear in scientific journals. See Fausto-Sterling 1993 and Horowitz 1993. The question of the reality and meaning of brain size differences has been the subject of debate for almost two centuries. The mode of analysis I develop in this chapter is easily applicable to claims of racial and ethnic differences in brain structure.

3. The natural world, of course, does have input into the conversation. Some natural ‘‘facts’’ are more visible, more easily agreed-upon than others. There is no scientific disagreement, for example, that the brains of cats and the brains of humans look different. But there are also no commissions to promote a national dialogue about cats. On the other hand, there is disagree­ment—both social and scientific—about the nature of animal intelligence and how human and animal minds may or may not differ. So if scientists at­tempted to locate a brain center for a humanlike cognitive process in the cat, disagreement would be inevitable because there is no consensus on the nature of animal cognition itself.

4. Often, when a research system is too complex to give satisfying an­swers, scientists abandon it and turn to ‘‘doable’’ problems. The most famous example in my own field involves Thomas Hunt Morgan, who made fruit flies into a model organism and who developed Mendelian genetics. Morgan started life as an embryologist, but found embryos so complex that he de­spaired of finding answers. Initially he was skeptical of both genetics and evo­lution, but when, almost by accident, he began finding consistent and inter­pretable results that others generalized beyond the fruit fly, his research path became clear. For more on this history, see Allen 1975 and 1978 and Kohler

1994. For more on the concept of‘‘doability,’’ see Fujimura 1987 andMitman and Fausto-Sterling 1992. Several neuroscientists who read and commented on the first draft of this chapter pointed out that a goodly number of people in the field think that research on callosal size should be dropped because the CC is so intractable. But the field of neuroscience is nothing if not diverse and subdivided into different workgroups with different understandings of what constitutes ‘‘the best’’ form of research. So for others, whose work I examine here, the beat goes on. In the case of the corpus callosum, the collective fail­ure to move on is one sure sign that a lot more is at stake than the reputations of a few neuroscientists.

5. Gelman 1992; Gorman 1992.

6. Black i99 2,p. 162.

7. Foreman 1994.

8. Wade 1944.

9. Begley 1995, pp. 51—52. Elsewhere I offer a different take on the News­week article: Fausto-Sterling 1997.

10. The author does present the alternate ‘‘social’’ explanation, and in that sense does not take sides in the debate. Begley writes: ‘‘Is it farfetched to wonder whether parts of girls’ brains grow or shrink, while parts of boys’ expand or shrivel, because they were told not to worry their pretty heads about math, or because they started amassing Legos from birth?’’ (Begley

1995, p. 54).

11. (Unsigned 1992). This is an idea that more than a few sexologists take quite seriously. During the winter/spring of 1998, the Listserve of profes­sional sexologists, ‘‘Loveweb’’ (a pseudonym), had an extended and heated debate about if and why gay men gravitate to certain professions. In this debate the question of differences in spatial abilities and brain structure figured prominently.

12. Witelson 1991b; McCormick et al. 1990.

13. Schiebinger i992,p. 114.

14. Schiebinger i992.

15. Questions about the localization of function within the brain and brain asymmetry changed throughout the century. In the first half of the nine­teenth century, the belief that faculties of the mind were located in particular parts of the brain met a resistance that stemmed from an association of the idea of localization with social change movements and from a struggle between theology and the emerging field of experimental biology. The localizers fell into a political camp that advocated social reforms, such as doing away with the monarchy and the death penalty and broadening the right to vote. The

antilocalizers cheered the coronation of Charles X and advocated the death penalty for blasphemers (Harrington 1987). The French neurologist and an­thropologist Paul Broca finally settled the matter by correlating the loss of language ability in brain-damaged patients with a particular region (Broca’s area) of the frontal lobe of the cerebral cortex and concluding that, at least for language, the brain hemispheres were asymmetrical. Broca’s conclusions threatened ‘‘deeply rooted aesthetic and philosophical beliefs. … If it were established that the brain was functionally lopsided, this would make a mock­ery of the classical equation between symmetry. . . and notions of health and human physical perfection. . . .It might even undermine all recent efforts to bring logic and lawfulness to the study of the cortex, raising the spectre of retrograde movement toward the implicitly theological view of the cerebral cortex as an organ beyond all scientific classification’’ (Harrington 1987, p. 53).

Broca and other French neurologists, then, faced the specter of being dragged backward in time, away from an era of middle-class democracy and into a discourse that linked symmetry, a lack of localized brain functions, religion, and monarchy. Broca compromised by proposing that there were no innate cerebral asymmetries; instead, the brain grew unevenly during child­hood. Broca’s ideas about development during childhood rested, in turn, on a set of beliefs about racial brain differences that were also thought to emerge during childhood. See Gould 1981; Harrington 1987; and Russett 1989. Thus, asymmetry not only separated humans from animals; among humans, it divided the ‘‘advanced from the primitive races’’ (Harrington 1987, p. 66). Broca effected a major change. Whereas in the first half of the nineteenth century, perfectibility had been linked to symmetry, before long the ideas of perfectibility and asymmetry became linked. Soon it grew obvious that women (dubbed Homo parietalis, in contrast to white men, who became known as Homo frontalis; Fausto-Sterling 1992), small children, and the work­ing classes all had more symmetrical brains. By the end of the century, the list of the imperfect had grown to include madmen and criminals (who as a group tended toward higher frequencies of left-handedness and ambidexterity, both of which correlate with lessened asymmetry). Broca advanced a new scientific view by separating it from an older set of political belief systems to which it had been linked, and attaching it to a new constellation. His one area of over­lap (innate symmetry but developmental asymmetry) provided continuity and acceptability; once the new scientific belief system became strong enough it flourished, generating offspring of its own.

16. Donahue suggested that the difference could account for ‘‘women’s intuition’’ (Donahue 1985).

17. De Lacoste-Utamsing and Holloway i98 2,p. 1431.

18. Efron 1990; Fausto-Sterling 1992b.

19. Stanley 1993 ,pp. 128 (emphasis in the original), 136.

20. An entire issue of the journal Brain and Cognition (26 [1994]) is devoted to a critique of a theory by Geschwind and Behan on which Bendbow relies for her claims about innate skill differences in males and females.

21. Benbow and Lubinski 1993. The debate about a biological basis for possible differences in mathematics ability, possibly lodged in the corpus callo­sum, continues. For a more recent exchange on this topic, see Benbow and Lubinski 1997 versus Hyde 1997.

22. Haraway 1997, p. 129. The technoscientific objects that Haraway mentions are ‘‘fetus, chip/computer, gene, race, ecosystem, brain.’’ She doesn’t discuss the corpus callosum, but she does pay a lot of attention to the intersections between race and gender. Indeed, the paths traveled by the sticky race and the sticky gender thread cross many times, and entangle them­selves more than once when they meet up in the CC.

23. Other aspects of education and child development are also grabbed up by these sticky threads. One paper, for example, claims a correlation between dyslexia and an altered corpus callosum structure (Hynd et al. 1993). This sticky node includes a host of issues in the diagnosis and treatment of learning disabilities, which reach far beyond the scope of this book.

24. One recent link involves theories of mental illness (Blakeslee 1999).

23. But see Efron 1990.

26. This claim was made by Bean (1906), who also wrote in the Septem­ber 1906 issue of Century Magazine that: ‘‘The Caucasian and the negro [sic] are fundamentally opposite extremes in evolution. Having demonstrated that the negro and the Caucasian are widely different in characteristics, due to a defi­ciency of gray matter and connecting fibers in the negro brain. . . we are forced to conclude that is is [sic] useless to try to elevate the negro by education or otherwise.’’ Quoted in Baker 1994, p. 210.

27. Allen et al. 1991.

28. Rauch and Jinkins 1994, p. 68.

29. Latour 1988; Latour 1983.

30. Kohler 1994.

31. For additional and varied discussion of how natural objects become laboratory tools, see the several articles in Clarke and Fujimura 1992.

32. Bean 1906.

33. Which look identical to tracings made by modern scientists. See, for example, Clarke et al. 1989 and Byne et al. 1988.

34. This is remarkable in a scientific world in which few publications are referred to ten years after their initial appearance.

33. I believe the two-dimensional CC is what might, in semiotic jargon, be called a free-floating signifier.

36. Bean 1906, p. 377. If you didn’t know the context, might you not think this was a description of gender, rather than racial difference?

37. p. 386.

38. In 1999 it is the splenium, now linked to cognitive functions, that is supposed to be larger in females.

39. Mall mentored an important woman anatomist, Florence Rena Sabine (1871—1933). For a brief biography, see Ogilvie 1986.

40. Mall i909,p. 9.

41. Ibid., p. 32. Thirteen of the papers I summarize in tables 3.3 to 3.3 refer to Bean and/or Mall. Five that report sex differences and four that find no difference quote only Bean. None quote Mall alone, although his paper stood for decades as the defining work. Three groups that find their own sex difference quote both Mall and Bean, while one that reports no difference cites the earlier controversy.

42. Seenote 26 and Baker 1994.

43. For additional discussion of how maps, atlases, and other representa­tions of the brain came to stand for the invisible brain ‘‘and all the forms of invisible work and failure hidden’’ therein (p. 224), see Star 1992.

44. Rauch and Jinkins (1994) write: ‘‘Measurements of the entire corpus callosum in three dimensions would also be a complex undertaking, since the corpus callosum is shaped much like a bird with complicated wing formation. Further these wings co-mingle with the ascending white matter tracts. . . making the lateral portion of the corpus callosum essentially impossible to define with certainty’’ (p. 68).

Even this domesticated CC presents problems, because it never separates entirely from the rest of the brain. Some of the research groups are careful to point this out: ‘‘The boundary of the CC is unequivocal dorsally but not ven­trally. As in monkeys the splenium and adjacent part of the body cannot be macroscopically demarcated from the dorsal hippocampal commisure, which was therefore included to an unknown extent in our CC correction. . . the limit between the CC and the septum pellucidum was at times difficult to determine by inspection only’’ (Clarke et al. 1989, p. 217). This level of difficulty, however, experimenters feel they can live with, since the main body of the domestic CC is clear enough.

43. One scientific problem involves interpreting the huge variability found among men and among women. Elster et al. (1990) write: ‘‘As seen from our own data and that of others, callosal measurements vary nearly as much within sex as they do between sexes’’ (p. 323). See also Byne et al. 1988. A second question concerns the best method of looking at the corpus callosum. In the current dispute, investigators have used variations on two major methods. The first involves postmortem measurements on brains pre­served from patients who have died from illnesses not affecting the brain. The revealed, two-dimensional surface of this CC cross-section then becomes the object of a variety of measurements. The alternate method is to use live volun­teers who have agreed to have their heads examined by a magnetic resonance imager (MRI). This machine uses the body’s natural chemical activity to visu­alize the brain. The machine creates images on a TV screen of optical ‘‘slices’’ of the brain. Just as one might slice a loaf of bread, the machine begins at the outer surface, pictures the first thin slice, then proceeds toward the center, offering up visual slices. The visible outlines of the corpus callosum become the two-dimensional structure that the scientist then measures. The authors of a recent paper write:

studies using autopsy or cadaver material also tend to have low sample sizes. While there are advantages in using postmortem material, such as direct measurement and the ability to measure brain weight, the paucity of specimens makes for questionable statistical conclusions. Other prob­lems associated with the use of embalmed postmortem material are the changes resulting from formalin fixation. . . . Studies using magnetic res­onance images have benefited from larger sample sizes. MRI studies using a slice thickness of 7—10 mm have been criticized, as the partial volume effect may lead to inaccurate results. [Constant and Ruther 1996, p. 99]

A third technical problem concerns the concept of ‘‘allometry.’’ See, for ex­ample, Fairbairn 1997. For allometry debates applied to the problems of CC comparison, see Going and Dixson (1990), p. 166, who write:

It is well known that the brains of men are larger and heavier than those of women. This presents a difficulty for studies of sexual dimorphism, in that real differences between the brains of men and women may be ob­scured, or spurious differences created, by this difference in size. The question arises whether it is proper to attempt correction for brain weight. Correction reflects the theoretical model of relationships be­tween brain weight and the quantities under consideration, and the model may not be correct. Corrected data must therefore be interpreted with caution, even scepticism.

Contrast this point of view with Holloway, who finds relative differences to be of great interest (Holloway 1998; see also Peters 1988).

46. The modern dispute about CC gender differences began with mea­sures of corpus callosums from brains obtained at autopsy (PM) (de Lacoste – Utamsing and Holloway 1982). As subsequent reports differed both from the original and from each other, a debate about method also emerged. Postmor­tem studies had smaller sample sizes, for example. For fifteen studies using MRI’s the average sample size was 86.3 (range 10—122), while for fifteen stud­ies using postmortems the sample size averaged 44.2 (range 14—70). The studies surveyed are listed in note yo.

47. Various forms of brain scans are gaining public recognition as a sup­posedly objective way to read the brain. Of course, MRI’s and the especially popular PET scans are constructed images. For more on brain scans, see Dumit 1997, i999aand 1999b.

48. Witelson and Goldsmith 1991; Witelson 1989.

49. Clark et al. 1989, p. 217; Byne et al. 1988. Witelson points out that ‘‘study of the concordance between direct postmortem and MR measurement of callosal size remains to be done’’ (Witelson i989,p. 821).

Using different technoscientific objects can lead to different results. I tal­lied up whether or not a research group had found sex or handedness differ­ences in whole or part of the corpus callosum (either absolute or relative area differences). When MRI was the choice of method, seven research groups found a sex difference, while fourteen found no difference. In contrast, eight publications using postmortems reported sex differences, while seven did not. Is there something about using PM’s (smaller sample size, nature of the object produced?) that makes it more likely for one to find a sex difference? (I used the studies listed in the following note.)

50. The papers are: Witelson 1985, 1989, and 1991a; Witelson and Gold­smith 1991; Demeter et al. 1988; Hines etal. 1992;Cowell etal. 1993; Hol – lowayetal. 1993; de Lacoste-Utamsing and Holloway 1982; de Lacoste et al. 1986; Oppenheim et al. 1987; O’Kusky et al. 1988; Weiss etal. 1989; Habib et al. 1991; Johnson et al. 1944; Bell and Variend 1985; Holloway and de Lacoste 1986; Kertesz et al. 1987; Byne etal. 1988; Clarke et al. 1989; Allen et al. 1991; Emory et al. 1991; Aboitiz, Scheibel et al. 1992b; Clarke and Zaidel 1994; Rauch and Jinkins 1994; Going and Dixson 1990; Steinmetz et al. 1992; Reinarz et al. 1988; Denenberg et al. 1991; Prokop et al. 1990; Elsteretal. 1990; Steinmetz et al. 1995; Constant and Ruther 1996.

51. Habib et al. 1991.

52. Witelson i989.

53. Lynch ^90 p. i7i.

54. ‘‘Starting,’’ Lynch writes, ‘‘with an initially recalcitrant specimen, scientists work methodically to expose, work with, and perfect the speci­men’s surface appearances to be congruent with graphic representation and mathematical analysis’’ (Lynch 1990, p. 170).

55. For a discussion of other aspects of simplification in scientific work, see Star 1983. For more on the construction of research objects within social networks, see Balmer 1996 and Miettinen 1998.

56. If CC differences appear during childhood, they may, presumably, be affected by developmental experiences. In other words, differences in adult brain anatomy, may, in fact, have been produced by social differences in the first place. See, for example, Aboitiz et al. 1996 and Ferrario et al. 1996.

57. There is an ongoing dispute about how the CC changes with age and whether male and female CC’s age differently. The principles culled from this aspect of the argument don’t differ from those developed in this chapter, so I have chosen not to plumb the depths of the aging argument. See, for example,

Salat et al. 1996. How men and women age and the problems of old age are yet other social bits picked up by the sticky CC threads.

38. Holloway et al. 1993; Holloway 1998.

39. The explanation offered for this relationship between sex and handed­ness is that men’s brains are more lateralized than women’s (at least for certain cognitive functions). But in general, left-handers are less lateralized than right-handers. If one assumes that a larger CC area implies less lateralization, but that women, regardless of handedness, are already less lateralized, then adding handedness into the picture won’t matter for them, but it will make a measurable difference for men.

60. Cowell etal. 1993.

61. Bishop and Wahlsten 1997. See also a detailed discussion by Byne (1993), who reaches conclusions similar to mine and Bishop and Wahlsten’s.

Meta-analysis is, itself, a controversial process. Debate continues over how to evaluate conflicting results in the scientific literature. Some find the bean­counting method seen in my tables 3.3 to 3.3 most appropriate, others meta­analysis (Mann 1994). For a technical account of the effects of meta-analysis on research standards in psychology, see Schmidt 1992; for more on meta­analysis, see Hunt 1997.

62. Driesen and Raz 1993. They also concluded that left-handers have larger CC’s than right-handers.

63. Fitch and Denenberg 1998. They argue that one cannot use relative values to compare different groups unless there is a proven correlation within each group. They use IQ to illustrate their point. ‘‘On average there is no sex difference between men and women on IQ tests. However, female brains are smaller than male brains, and weigh less.’’ If one made a ratio of IQ to brain weight, women would be significantly smarter ‘‘per unit brain’’ than men. ‘‘The reason we do not use such a statistic is that research has established that there is no within-group correlation between IQ and brain size’’ (‘‘within – group’’ means comparing women with smaller brains to women with larger brains). With regard to CC, they conclude: ‘‘the procedure of dividing brain size into CC area as a ‘correction factor’ is incorrect, and, because the female brain is typically smaller, can lead to false results suggesting a larger ‘relative’ CC in females’’ (p. 326).

Aboitiz (1998) argues that correction for brain size might be appropriate if one had a better idea of how function and size correlate. Holloway (1998) takes serious exception to the case against relative measurements: ‘‘Physical anthropologists. . . routinely use ratio data. . . we do so because an ex­tremely interesting set of facts emerges: the relative size of the brain. . . does show sexually dimorphic differences, and they vary considerably within the mammalia’’ (p. 334). Wahlsten and Bishop (1998) also argue against the wan­ton use of ratios, although they believe such use can be legitimate under cer­tain circumstances, ones not met in the CC studies.

64. Halpern (1998), p. 331. This asymmetric analysis of a scientific dis­pute suggests that one side (the feminists, in this case) has political invest­ments that impair their ability to impartially evaluate a literature, while the other side can clearly hear the truth that nature speaks because they have no political investment. Halpern implies that one explanation of a failure to find sex differences is sloppy work, perhaps resulting from political commitments rather than a commitment to finding truths about the natural world. This argument against feminism takes the same form as Gould’s analysis of Mor­ton’s work on racial differences in brain size (Gould 1981). Whichever side one is on (God’s or the bad guy’s) in these disputes, such asymmetric argu­ments paint one into a corner (see also Halpern 1997).

63. Driesen and Raz (1993) suggest that researchers could improve the situation by improved reporting on the nature of their sample and even more measurements and different statistical tests. Bishop and Wahlsten (1997) ar­gue that ‘‘it would be unwise to engage in further research on this topic unless a large enough sample is used in a single study’’ (p. 393). They think a mini­mum sample size would have to include 300 of each group—for a total of 600 brains! This sample size could accommodate the enormous variation within members of the same gender.

66. I found the concept of hypertext useful in incorporating the history of statistics into an analysis of the CC wars. Hypertext are those words or pictures that an internet surfer can signal in order to be transported to a whole new screen of information or activities. Haraway’s description of hypertext is also helpful:

In hypertext readers are led through, and can construct for themselves and interactively with others, webs of connections held together by het­erogeneous sorts of glues. Pathways through the web are not predeter­mined but show their tendentiousness, their purposes, their strengths, and their peculiarities. Engaging in the epistemological and political game of hypertext commits its users to search for relationships in a fungus­like mangrove or aspen forest where before there seemed to be neat ex­clusions and genetically distinct, single-trunk trees. [Haraway 1997, p.


67. For examples of the literature on the social history of statistics con­nections between statistics, gender, race, and the social construction of scien­tific knowledge, see Porter 1986, 1992, 1993, and 1997; Porter and Mikulas 1994; Porter and Hall 1993; Hacking 1982, 1990, and 1991; Wise 1993; and Poovey 1993.

As I write, the news is full of a politically charged battle over how to collect numbers for the year 2000 census. See, for example, Wright 1999.

68. The history of statistics as a technology of social management is poorly known even among scientists who use statistical procedures to ensure mathe­matical objectivity. For the interested reader, therefore, I’ve included several endnotes on the origins of statistics. Once again, we find that scientific argu­ments, this time about numbers, are also social arguments.

Head measurements are a longtime favorite. At the turn of the century, criminologists measured as many parameters of the heads of criminals as they could think of (Lombroso and Ferrero 1895). Similarly, Quetelet presented dozens of tables about criminality, and Lombroso’s little volume is packed with numbers. One table compared prostitutes, peasants, educated women, thieves, poisoners, assassins, infanticides, and normal women by measuring the following aspects of the cranium and face: anteroposterior diameter, transverse diameter, horizontal circumference, longitudinal curve, trans­verse curve, index of cephalon, anterior semicircumference, minimal frontal diamter, diameter of cheekbones, diameter of jaws, and height of forehead (Lombroso and Ferrero 18959 pp. 60—61).

69. Between 1820 and 1850, Europe experienced a great numerical ex­plosion. From 1820 to 1840, ‘‘the rate of increase in the printing of numbers appears to be exponential whereas the rate of increase in the printing of words was merely linear’’ (Hacking 1982, p. 282). The increasing number of pub­lished statistical reports covered a growing diversity of measured things. Con­sider, for example, A Treatise on Man and the Development of His Faculties, by the Belgian astronomer-turned-statistician M. A. Quetelet. Originally published in Paris in 1835, the Treatise contains hundreds of numerical tables. Quetelet enumerated—that is he counted and categorized—‘‘the development of the physical properties of man. . . development of stature weight, strength, &c.,

. . . development of the moral and intellectual qualities of man. . . [and] of the properties of average man, of the social system. . . and of the ultimate progress of our knowledge of the law of human development’’ (Quetelet 1842, table of contents). In the fourteen-page section on ‘‘The Development of the Propensity to Crime’’ alone, Quetelet included twenty-five statistical tables listing the numbers of people committing crimes in a particular year, their educational level compared to whether the crime was against property or people, the influence of climate and season on crime, the disposition of legal cases by city and town, crimes in different countries, sex differences in the types of crime, age of the criminal, motive for the crime, and much, much more. England, France, and Belgium all experienced a grand period of statistical gathering. Governments needed information about a changing populace. Was the birthrate high enough? What was the state of the working classes (and how likely were they to revolt)? How healthy were army recruits? The social and political questions of the time dictated the types of information sought and their tabular presentation. By the time of the French Revolution, statistics was not regarded as an arm of pure and applied mathematics, free from social import and content, but rather had come ‘‘to be conceived in

France and England as the empirical arm of political economy’’ (Porter 1986, p. 27).

70. Statistical tabulations required the creation of categories, a process the philosopher Ian Hacking calls subversive: ‘‘Enumeration demands kinds of things or people to count. Counting is hungry for categories. Many of the categories we now use to describe people are byproducts of the needs of enu­meration’’ (Hacking 1982 ,p. 280; emphasis in original)—just as the applica­tion of measurement to the human body (morphometry) requires the creation of subdivisions such as the 2 – D CC, the splenium, the genu, or the isthmus. As the historian Joan Scott writes: ‘‘Statistical reports are neither totally neutral collections of fact nor simply ideological impositions. Rather they are ways of establishing the authority of certain visions of social order, of organizing perceptions of‘experience’’’ (Scott i988,p. 115). See also Poovey 1993.

In the first half of the nineteenth century, Quetelet formulated a way to characterize populations. For Quetelet, a group of individuals seemed cha­otic, but as a population, they behaved according to measurable social laws. He believed so strongly in statistical laws that he devoted himself to creating a composite human: the average man whom he viewed as a moral ideal. He examined many facets of the average man: How had he been described by the literary world and in the fine arts? What physical and anatomical measures did anatomy and medicine offer? (Stigler 1986). Moreover, Quetelet standardized racial, sexual, andnational types, which he believed enabled scientists to com­pare intelligence across the races. Caucasians, he felt, came out ahead. See Quetelet 1842,p. 98.

Quetelet equated deviation from a statistical norm with abnormality in the social, medical, or moral sense. Crime and social chaos resulted from the great disparity between the very wealthy and the very poor, while middle – income people who lived moderate lives were bound to live longer than those on the extreme. ‘‘The progress of civilization, the gradual triumph of mind, was equivalent to a narrowing of the limits within which the ‘social body’ oscillated’’ (Porter 1986, p. 103). Deviation from the mean represented a mistake or error.

71. The sociologist Bruno Latour uses metaphor to transform the drab­looking scientific text—filled with graphs, tables, and statistical testing— into a thrilling epic. Note that the hero here is the result—in this case—a finding of sex differences:

What is going to happen to the hero? Is it going to resist this new ordeal?

… Is the reader convinced? Not yet. Ah ha, here is a new test. . . Imag­ine the cheering crows and the boos. . . . The more we get into the nice­ties of the scientific literature, the more extraordinary it becomes. It is now real opera. Crowds of people are mobilized by the references; from offstage hundreds of accessories are brought in [e. g.. statistical tests and analyses]. Imaginary readers. . . are not asked only to believe the author but to spell out what sort of tortures, ordeals and trials the heroes should undergo before being recognized as such. The text unfolds the dramatic story of these trials. . . . At the end, the readers, ashamed of their former doubts, have to accept the author’s claim. These operas unfold thousands of times on the pages of Nature. [Latour 1987^. 53]

72. Statistics can be seen as a specialized technology of difference. Statisti­cal analyses and the establishment of population means (which often became norms) became an essential part of the field of psychology in the twentieth century. Only then was a ‘‘normal’’ psychological subject established—built by heavy reliance on population aggregates. For a full treatment of the role of statistics in the narrowing of ‘‘epistemic access to the variety of psychological realities,’’ see Danziger 1990, p. 197. Danziger’s history is especially impor­tant in analyzing lateralization studies, which are often used to demonstrate the psychological relevance of CC studies.

73. During the second half of the nineteenth century, statisticians reinter­preted the bell curve as representing mere variability rather than a distribu­tion of error around an average, ideal type, as Quetelet thought. Eventually, scientists renamed standard error, calling it standard deviation instead. Charles Darwin’s first cousin, Sir Francis Galton, did not extol the virtues of the me­dian (see Porter 1986, p. 129). In contrast to earlier scientists, who focused on improving humankind through improving environmental conditions, Gal – ton wanted to use knowledge about the exceptional variant in order to use evolution (selective breeding) to improve upon the bodies making up a popu­lation. To this end, he invented a new field of study and a social movement: eugenics. In his book Hereditary Genius: An Inquiry into Its Laws and Consequences, he wrote a prescription for improving the health of English society: ‘‘I propose. . . that a man’s natural abilities are derived by inheritance. . . . Conse­quently, as it is easy… to obtain by careful selection a permanent breed of dog. . . gifted with peculiar powers. . . , so it would be quite practicable to produce a highly-gifted race of men by judicious marriages during several consecutive generations‘‘(Galton 1892, p. 1). Dismissing the possibility that variations in human ability resulted primarily from differences in training and opportunity, he wrote: ‘‘I have no patience with the hypothesis that babies are born pretty much alike, and that the sole agencies in creating differences between boy and boy, and man and man, are steady application and moral effort’’ (Galton 1892, p. 12). As evidence, he noted that despite the wider educational opportunities available in America (compared with the more rigid class system of Great Britain), England still produced more great writ­ers, artists, and philosophers: ‘‘The higher kind of books. . . read in America are principally the work of Englishmen. … If the hindrances to the rise of genius were removed from English society as completely as they have been removed from that of America, we should not become materially richer in highly eminent men‘‘(Galton 1892. p. 36). Galton feared for the future of English civilization, but hoped that if he could figure out how to predict the inheritance of mental characteristics and devise a breeding program, higher civilizations could be saved. Galton and his students oversaw a gradual transi­tion from Quetelet’s concept of probable error to that of a standard devia­tion—free from any implication of natural error and providing the raw mate­rial with which eugenic programs could work. Similarly, Quetelet’s law of error became a normal distribution. The same old bell curve, once seen to conceptualize nature’s difficulties in making perfect copies of its essential template, became in Galton’s hands a representation of nature’s virtue in pro­ducing a wide and varying range of individuals.

Galton chose statistics as the best method for predicting the relationship between a parental trait—say, height or intelligence—and the same trait in offspring. He devised the concept of a correlation coefficient—a number that would express the relationship between two variables. His concept of correla­tion developed because his eugenic concerns ‘‘made possible a more general treatment of numerical variability’’ (Mackenzie 1981; Porter 1986). Subse­quent developers of statistics, especially Karl Pearson (who invented the chi square and contingency tests) and R. A. Fisher (who invented the analysis of variance tests often used today), were also devotees of eugenics and, as with Galton, their concerns about human heredity drove their statistical discover­ies. See Mackenzie 1981 for a fascinating discussion of the political implica­tions of the chi-squared test and the way Fisher’s concerns with eugenics led him to significantly narrow the scope ofevolutionary theory. The field ofmod – ern biology has been importantly shaped by the eugenic commitments of a large number of biologists working in the first third of the twentieth century.

74. The process does not involve drawing such a curve; the information can be dealt with entirely through numbers. I invoke the curve here to help the reader visualize what is being done.

73. For a discussion of the limitations of the uses of ANOVA, see Lewon – tin 1974 and Wahlsten 1990. Lewontin writes: ‘‘What has happened in at­tempting to solve the problem of the analysis of causes by using the analysis of variation is that a totally different object has been substituted. . . . The new object of study, the deviation of phenotypic value from the mean, is not the same as the phenotypic value itself’’ (p. 403).

76. This test takes into account sample size, the degree of variation around the male mean, and the degree of variation around the female mean. Many of the workers in this dispute acknowledge the wide variability for both sexes in CC shape.

77. Both means testing and ANOVAs were used by various groups.

78. Allen etal. 1991.

79. Latour (1990) calls these graphs, tables, and drawings ‘‘inscriptions,’’ and comments on their place in the scientific paper: because ‘‘the dissenter [in this case that would be me—the highly skeptical reader] can always escape and try out another interpretation. . . much energy and time is devoted by scientists to corner him and surround him with ever more dramatic visual effects. Although in principle any interpretation can be opposed to any text and image, in practice this is far from being the case; the cost of dissenting increases with each new collection, each new labeling, each new redrawing’’ (p. 42; emphasis in the original).

80. Allen et al. 1991 ,p. 933; emphasis in the original.

81. 1Ы^ p. 937.

82. In the first quarter of this century, Pearson developed the X2 method to establish the validity of a correlation between two or more qualitative vari­ables. But other methods also contested for this privilege. See Mackenzie 1981, pp. 133—183 for an analysis of a dispute between Pearson and his stu­dent G. Udny Rule over the best way to analyze such data. Rule studied social policy requiring a yes or no answer. Did, for example, a vaccine against a particular disease save lives during an epidemic? Rule invented a statistic— which he called Q—which could tell him whether there was a relationship between treatment and survival. Pearson not only wanted a yes or no answer, he wanted to study the strength or degree of any association. The motivation for this ‘‘strength of correlation’’ approach came directly from his wish to develop a practical program of eugenics—’’to alter the relative fertility of the good and the bad stocks in the community’’ (Mackenzie 1981 ,p. 173). Pear­son needed a mathematical theory in which knowledge of a person’s ancestry could enable him to predict an individual’s abilities, personality, and social propensities. In the 1890s, when Pearson first began working on problems of descent, there was no accepted way to study the heredity of unmeasurable characteristics such as color or mental ability. Pearson needed to extend the theory of correlation to measure the strength of inheritance of traits that had no units of measurement. Pearson solved his problem by collecting data on intelligence—based on teachers’ estimates of a child’s abilities—from over 4,000 pairs of siblings in the schools. He then asked: If one brother was rated highly intelligent, what was the likelihood that the other one would as well? His method of calculating correlation for these conditions convinced him that human character traits were strongly inherited. ‘‘We inherit,’’ he wrote ‘‘our parents’ tempers, our parents’ conscientiousness, shyness and ability, even as we inherit their stature, forearm and span’’ (quoted in Mackenzie, p. 172). Rule criticized Pearson for making an unverifiable assumption—that the numbers used to calculate the X2 were distributed in a bell-shaped curve. Pearson attacked Rule’s Q because it could not measure the strength of corre­lation. Their positions were unreconcilable because they had designed their tests to accomplish different goals. The controversy between Rule and Pear­son never really ended. Today both methods are used. According to Macken­zie, Rule’s Q is most popular among sociologists, while Pearson’s correlation coefficient is more in vogue among psychometricians. For additional analysis of the issues raised by this dispute, see Gigerenzer et al. 1989.

83. This is not an attack on Allen et al. Indeed, this is one of the strongest papers in the CC collection. Rather, I use them to illustrate the tactics scien­tists use to stabilize and draw meaning from the CC.

84. That is, the type of story I explicated when discussing nineteenth- century disputes on brain laterality (see notes 68—73 and 82 on the social history of statistics).

A related and helpful theoretical approach would be to think of the CC as a boundary object, in this case a standardized form that ‘‘inhabits several intersecting social worlds and satisfies] the informational requirement of each’’ (Star and Griesemer 1989, p. 393). Boundary objects can take on different meanings in each social world, but they must be easily recognizable and thus provide a way to translate among different groups. The social worlds in this case can be read from figure 3.6. They include research areas with overlapping but differing foci, as well as social and political groupings—edu­cational reformers, feminists, gay rights activists, and the like.

83. For some current theories of CC function, see Hellige et al. (1998), who suggest that larger CC size may reflect a greater functional isolation of the two hemispheres. Moffat et al. (1998) suggest that males (there were no females in this study) whose speech and handedness functions are located in different brain hemispheres may require increased interhemispheric commu­nication and thus a larger CC. (Note the difference with the previous cita­tion.) Nikolaenko and Egorov (1998) note that there is no commonly accepted model of brain asymmetry. They present a thesis in which the CC is the key to integrating dynamically interacting brain hemispheres. The nerve fibers that course through the CC certainly have different functions, some excit­atory and others inhibitory. Some types of CC activity will surely inhibit in­formation flow, and other types will enhance it. The level of subtlety needed to understand the mechanisms involved in brain cognition and their relation­ship to CC function are not currently available. See, for example, Yazgan et al. (1993), who write: ‘‘The corpus callosum is composed of fibres with excit­atory and inhibitory functional effects, the proportions and distributions of which are unknown in the CC’s of these particular subjects’’ (p. 776). The same may be said of all the subjects in all the human CC studies. For an ex­tended treatment of hemispheric asymmetry, see Hellige 1993.

86. Allen etal. 1994. O’Rand (1989) applies the idea of a thought collec­tive to beliefs about brain morphology and cognitive abilities. Star (1992) writes that a conclusion about the function of a particular region of the brain ‘‘is really a report about the collective work of a community of scientists, patients, journal publishers, monkeys, electrode manufacturers, and so on, over a period of some 100 years’’ (pp. 207—208).

87. Cohn (1987) discusses how entering into a linguistically defined com­munity—in her case, defense intellectuals—imposes a particular mode of thought. To communicate within the community, one must use their lan­guage. But in choosing their language, one gives up other ways of seeing the world. See also Hornstein 1988.

88. See, for example, Aboitiz et al. 1992. Nobody knows whether size differences in CC subdivisions result from denser packing of neurons, a change in the relative proportions of differently sized neurons, or a reduction in the number of many different kinds of neurons. For attempts to answer some of these questions, see Aboitiz et al. 1992 and i998a, b. In animals, re­searchers identify and trace individual nerve fibers from their origins in the cerebral cortex to their passage through the CC after injecting a dye in the cortex. Individual nerve fibers absorb the dye and conduct it along their ax­ons. (An axon is the long end of a nerve fiber that conducts electrical impulses from the cell’s point of origin to its connection to another nerve cell or a muscle cell.) When researchers later isolate the CC, they can find the dye and see which part of the CC contains axons originating from the region of the cerebrum they injected. In one study of this sort on rats, researchers con­firmed that the splenium was comprised in part of axons originating in the visual cortex (the region of the brain involved with enabling vision). Some of the axons running through the CC were coated with an insulating substance called myelin, while others were bare nerve fibers. There were no sex differ­ences in overall area of the CC or of the splenium. The total density of unmy­elinated axons (number of fibers per mm2 in certain subdivisions of the sple­nium) differed in male and female rats (female>male). Male rats, however, had the advantage in myelinated axons. Simply counting axons of all types buried the more subtle differences. The size of both fiber types was the same in males and females (Kim et al. 1996). This level of detail—currently unat­tainable in humans—is what is minimally necessary to relate functional con­sequences to structural differences. In humans, very careful dissection has revealed some of the general topographical features of connections between particular regions of the human cerebral cortex and particular regions of the corpus callosum (de Lacoste et al. 1985; Velut et al. 1998).

89. For a single volume that shows the density and diversity of this node, see Davidson and Hugdahl 1995. There are literally thousands of research articles on handedness, brain asymmetry, and cognitive function. This is one definition of node density. By diverse, I mean the range of questions (or number of subnodes) subsumed within this knot. Articles in the Davidson volume cover the following topics: hormonal influences on brain structure and func­tion, brain anatomy, theories of visual processing, theories of aural processing, discussions of handedness, theories of learning, links to other medical ques­tions such as sudden cardiac death, links to emotional aspects of behavior, evolution of brain asymmetry, development of brain asymmetry, learning dis­abilities, and psychopathology.

90. See, for example, Bryden and Bulman-Fleming 1994 and Hellige et al. 1998.

91. Note the paper title of Goldberg et al. 1994. For an evaluation of methods used in laterality studies, see Voyer 1998.

92. See, for example, Bisiacchi et al. 1994; Corballis 1994; and Johnson et al. 1996.

93. For an up-to-date view of the debate about handedness, laterality, cognition, lateralization, sex differences, and much more, see Bryden et al. 1994 and the papers that reply to all, found in vol. 26 (1994) of Brain and Cognition. See also Hall and Kimura 1993.

94. For a recent study, see Davatzikos and Resnick 1998.

93. Whether one finds differences in performance on specialized tests of particular cognitive tasks may well depend on what sample one uses (e. g., a large general sample versus a sample of gifted children) and when and how one does the test. Although many previously reported differences have begun to diminish or even disappear, a few are stable with time. This does not, of course, mean that they are biological in origin, only that if they are social, they have not been modified by social change in the past twenty to thirty years. The number of different types of tests on which sex differences continue to appear and are of the same magnitude as they were twenty-five years ago is now small. The social import of any such differences, of course, remains in hot dispute. For discussions of meta-analyses of studies of gender differences in cognition see Voyer et al. 1993; Halpern 1997; Richardson 1997; and Hyde and McKinley 1997. For a discussion of the meaning and interpretation of differences on cognitive tasks, see Crawford and Chaffin 1997 and Caplan and Caplan 1997.

96. Fausto-Sterling 1992; Uecker and Obrzut 1994; Voyer et al. 1993; Hyde and McKinley 1997.

97. Gowan 1983.

98. Some of these conflicting theories are discussed in Clarke and Zaidel 1994.

To get a taste of the varying viewpoints and research on gifted children and the incorporation of findings on the corpus callosum, see Bock and Ack – rifl 1993.

99. Evidence that the human CC continues to develop into at least the third decade of life is reviewed by Schlaug et al. 1993. The implication of postnatal development is that environment (in this case, musical training) can influence brain anatomy. These researchers report that musicians who began their musical training before the age of seven had larger anterior CC size than controls. They find their results to be ‘‘compatible with plastic changes of components of the CC during a maturation period within the first decade of life, similar to those observed in animal studies’’ (p. 1047). Note the invoca­tion of animal studies.

100. Allen et al. i99i, p. 940.

101. Some scientific papers, however, explicitly raise the possibility. Cowell et al. (1993) link laterality, hormones, and sex differences in the fron­tal lobe while Hines (1990) floats the idea of hormonal effects on the human corpus callosum.

102. Halpern (1998) writes: ‘‘For obvious ethical reasons, experimental manipulations ofhormones that are expected to alter the brain are conducted with nonhuman mammals. . . . Researchers assume that the effects in hu­mans will be similar. . . but not identical. . . .Conclusions. . . are corrobo­rated with data from. . . naturally occurring abnormalities. . . such as girls with congenital adrenal hyperplasia’’ (p. 330). Note how the hormone nodule always links back at some point to intersexuality. A similar approach to draw­ing strength from association with other arenas may be found in Wisniewski (i998).

103. Sociologist Susan Leigh Star and the psychologist Gail Hornstein de­scribe this as a shell game that has played itself out in earlier disputes about the brain when ‘‘uncertainties from one line of work were ‘answered’ in the public construction of the theory by drawing on results from another domain. In triangulating results across domains, accountability to the anomalies in any single domain was never required’’ (Hornstein and Star 1994, p. 430).

104. Efron (1990) has written an extensive critique of the concept of hemispheric lateralization and of the experimental methods, such as the use of tachistoscopes and dichotic listening devices, which support claims of later­alization. Uecker and Obrzut (1994) question the interpretation of right – hemisphere male superiority for spatial tasks. Chiarello (1980) suggests there is no conclusive evidence that the CC is needed for lateralization of certain functions. Clarke and Lufkin (1993) find that variations in callosal size do not contribute to individual differences in hemispheric specialization. Jancke et al. (1992) critique interpretations of dichotic listening tests for cerebral later­alization. Gitterman and Sies (1992) discuss nonbiological determinants of language organization in the brain, while Trope et al. (1992) question the generalizability of the analytic/holistic distinction between left and right brain hemispheres.

103. Writing about the skeleton debate, the historian Londa Schiebinger notes: ‘‘Since the Enlightenment, science has stirred hearts and minds with its promise of a ‘neutral’ and privileged viewpoint, above and beyond the rough and tumble of political life’’ (Schiebinger 1992, p. 114).

106. Latour considers objects of knowledge to be hybrids. Reading his account of the history of natural and political science as efforts to stabilize the nature/nurture dichotomy by denying the hybrid nature of scientific facts was an illuminating experience for me (Latour 1993).

107. I have not exhausted the analysis. I don’t consider, for example, the institutional resources available to different research groups. Allen et al., for example, work at UCLA and have access to a large collection of MRI’s taken for other medical purposes. The researchers skeptical of sex differences, such as Byne et al. (1988), did not have institutional access to such a large database. Allen et al. can swamp out Byne and colleagues’ finding of no difference by the sheer size of their database. Ruth Bleier’s (she is the leader of the research group of Byne et al.) personal history as a political radical and feminist leads her to be more marginal in terms of her access to databanks. It is likely that, politically or otherwise, marginal people always have a harder time mobilizing counter data and getting their mobilized data heard.

Nor have I produced a detailed analysis of conventional rhetoric. For ex­ample, Allen et al. use the word dramatic to describe the sex difference in splenial shape, when in fact they had to use a rather tortured process to render the difference visible. The use of emphatic words is, of course, part of the rhetoric of calling attention to a particular finding.

108. This point really becomes clear when we think about homosexuality. In the early part of the century and currently, many liberal thinkers were/are genetic determinists. They believe(d) that homosexuality is ‘‘genetic,’’ and that one social implication is that gay people should have equal civil rights. Religious conservatives, on the other hand, argue that homosexuality is a ‘‘choice’’ and that, since it is also a sin, homosexuals should choose to become straight. They use the ability to choose to argue against equal civil rights. Sandwiched in between, in the middle of the century, are the practices of Nazi Germany. Nazis believed that homosexuality is ‘‘genetic,’’ but saw that as an argument for extermination.

109. Halpern 1997, p. і,098.

110. Hyde and McKinley 1997 ,p. 49. What is meant by this goal is often unclear. Many conceptualize equal opportunity to mean no more than the absence of overt discrimination. Hyde’s view is that it should involve active efforts to level the cognitive playing field. Furthermore, my argument as­sumes that when they appear, group differences in cognition are small enough that the right combination of skills training and encouragement could elimi­nate them. I am aware of the counterargument—that it would take extreme measures (cost too much, push girls too hard against their ‘‘natural’’ inclina­tions, etc.) to equalize group differences, or that perhaps equalizing group differences in cognition by training and remediation is simply not possible. (Currently, we offer remedial reading and verbal training. These are areas where group differences favoring girls often appear.) A further assumption underlying this argument is that known group differences in cognition actu­ally account for subsequent professional achievement. My own view is that this is probably not a good assumption. I suspect that unacknowledged gender schema do abetter job of explaining such difference. (See Valian i998a, b for a full statement of this argument.)

iii. I know from experience that some will read my position as antimate­rialist regardless of my protestations, but reaffirming my materialist belief sys­tem is worth a shot.

Chapter 3: Of Gender and Genitals: The Use and Abuse of the Modern Intersexual [6]

gency.’’ The following are typical quotes from medical articles on intersexual­ity: ‘‘Ambiguous sex in the newborn infant is a medical emergency’’ (New and Levine 1981 ,p. 61); ‘‘Although it is now well-accepted that ambiguity of the genitalia is a medical emergency, this was not the case a decade ago’’ (Lobe, etal. 1987, p. 651); ‘‘Gender assignment is a neonatal surgical emer­gency’’ (Pinter and Kosztolanyi, 1990 p. 111). One surgeon called ‘‘the child with ambiguous genitalia a neonatal surgical emergency’’(Canty 1977, p. 272). The goal of one surgeon is to make a gender assignment within twenty – four hours and ‘‘send the child out as a sex’’ (Lee 1994, p. 30). Rink and Adams (1998) write: ‘‘One of the more devastating problems that can befall new parents is the finding that their child has ambiguous genitalia. This is truly an emergency necessitating a team approach by the neonatologist, endo­crinologist, geneticist, and pediatric urologist’’ (p. 212). See also: Adkins 1999.

2 . One physician believes that ‘‘after stillbirth, genital anomaly is the most serious problem with a baby, as it threatens the whole fabric of the per­sonality and life of the person.’’ Apparently things like mental retardation, severe physical impairment necessitating lifelong dependence and life-threat­ening illness pale before having a baby with mixed genitalia (Hutson 1992 p. 239). The American College of Surgeons implies that the consequences of a little girl being born with an extremely large clitoris are alarming enough that surgery must be done even if there is serious risk from administering anesthesia. Dr. Richard Hurwitz notes that most genital surgeries are per­formed after six months to minimize anesthesia risks; ‘‘if the clitoris is very large, however, it may need to be taken care of earlier for social reasons’’ (ACS-1613: ‘‘Surgical Reconstruction of Ambiguous Genitalia in Female Children,’’ 1994).

3. Ellis 1943; emphasis in the original.

4. Money 1932, p. 8. See also Money and Hampson 1933; Money et al. 1933a; Money 1933; Money et al. 1933b, Money et al. 1936; Money 1936; Money et al. 1937; Hampson and Money 1933; Hampson 1933; and Hampson and Hampson 1961.

3. Money etal. 1933a, p. 308.

6. More recently, in the foreword to Money 1994, Louis Gooren, M. D., wrote, ‘‘normalcy in sex is a basic human demand. Male and female created he them’’ (p. ix).

7. Kessler notes the following unexamined assumptions in Money’s work: (1) genitals are naturally dimorphic, and genital categories are not socially constructed; (2 ) genitals that are not dimorphic can and should be altered by surgery; (3) gender is necessarily dichotomous because genitals are naturally dimorphic; (4) dimorphic genitals are the essential markers ofgender dichot­omy; and (3) physicians and psychologists have legitimate authority to define the relationship between gender and genitals (Kessler 1998, p. 7). In this de-

tailed yet accessible book, Kessler systematically dissects each of these unac­knowledged assumptions.

8. Dewhurst and Gordon 1963^.1.

9. This seems to be a convention of the genre; the reader sees the most intimate photographs, shots that would be viewed as pornographic if set in Hustler rather than a medical book. Indeed, in researching this book, I often found gaping holes in medical texts where photographs of intersexuals and/ or their genitalia had been razored out by a previous reader. Interestingly, we always see the ‘‘before’’ shot, designed to illustrate sexual ambiguity, but less often the ‘‘after,’’ in which one is to presume that all traces of difference have been eliminated. Thus the reader can judge ‘‘nature’s’’ caprice but not the physician’s handiwork. Figure 3.1 is a rare photograph of a whole infant.

10. Dewhurst and Gordon 1963, p. 3. The reader never learns what the ‘‘woman’’ has done in the thirty years since her ‘‘limited adjustment’’ to the time of outbreak of new torment. It is unclear whether she married, or how she earned her living.

11. This narrative is based on my readings of case histories, physician training manuals, interviews, and journal articles.

12. Orgasm, of course, is a whole-body experience, not restricted to the penis or clitoris, but most modern sexologists agree that the phallus is the origin point for this pleasurable physiological response.

13. Baker 1981, p. 262. According to Baker, the first three minutes of doctor-parent interaction are critical.

14. For full documentation and a much more detailed account of the stan­dard script that physicians offer to the parents of intersex children, see Kes­sler 1998.

13. I believe the distinction between true and pseudo-hermaphroditism should be dropped and the general term intersexuality substituted. The authors of one medical text reviewing disorders of sexual development now use four major categories: disorders of gonadal differentiation, female pseudo­hermaphroditism, male pseudo-hermaphroditism, and unclassified forms of abnormal sexual development. They have demoted the term true hermaphrodit­ism to a subcategory under the heading of ‘‘disorders of gonadal differentia­tion’’ Conte and Grumbach i989,p. 1,814; table reprinted with permission).

I. Disorders of Gonadal Differentiation

A. Seminiferous tubule dysgenesis and its variants (Klinefelter Syndrome)

B. Syndrome of gonadal dysgenesis and its variants (Turner Syndrome)

C. Familial and sporadic XX and XY gonadal dysgenesis and their variants

D. True hermaphroditism

II. Female Pseudo-hermaphroditism

A. Congenital virilizing adrenal hyperplasia

B. Androgens and synthetic progestins transferred from maternal circu­lation

C. Malformations of intestinal and urinary tract (nonadrenal form of fe­male pseudo-hermaphroditism)

D. Other teratologic factors

III. Male Pseudo-hermaphroditism

A. Testicular unresponsiveness ofhCG and LH (Leydig cell agenesis or hy­poplasia)

B. Inborn errors of testosterone biosynthesis

1. Errors affecting synthesis of both corticosteroids and testosterone (vari­ants of congenital adrenal hyperplasia)

a. Cholesterol side chain cleavage deficiency (congenital lipoid adrenal hy­perplasia)

b. 3-P-hydroxysteroid dehydrogenase deficiency

c. 17-alpha-hydroxylase deficiency

2. Errors primarily affecting testosterone biosynthesis

a. 17,20-lyase deficiency

b. 17-alpha-hydroxysteroid oxidoreductase deficiency

C. Defects in androgen-dependent target tissues

1 . End-organ resistance to androgenic hormones (androgen receptor defects)

a. Syndrome of complete androgen resistance and its variants (testicular feminization)

b. Syndrome of partial androgen resistance (Reifenstein Syndrome)

c. Androgen resistance in infertile men

2 . Inborn errors in testosterone metabolism by peripheral tissues

a. 52 -alpha-reductase deficiency—male pseudohermaphrodism with nor­mal virilization at puberty (familial perineal hypospadias with ambiguous de­velopment of urogenital sinus and male puberty)

D. Dysgenetic male pseudohermaphroditism

1. X chromatin-negative variants of the syndrome of gonadal dysgenesis (e. g., XO/XY, XYp-)

2. Incomplete form of familial XY gonadal dysgenesis

3 . Associated with degenerative renal disease

4. Vanishing testes syndrome (embryonic testicular regression)

E. Defects in synthesis, secretion, or response to mullerian duct inhibi­tory factor:

Female genital ducts in otherwise normal men—uteri herniae inguinale; persistent mullerian duct syndrome

F. Maternal ingestion of progestins

IV Unclassified Forms of Abnormal Sexual Development

A. In males

1. Hypospadias

2. Ambiguous external genitalia in XY males with multiple congenital anomalies

B. In females

і. Absence or anomalous development of the vagina, uterus, and fallopian tubes (Rokitansky Syndrome)

16. Money 1968.

17. I have distilled the information presented here from the following sources: Gross and Meeker 1955; Jones and Wilkins 1961; Overzier 1963; and Guinet and Decourt і969.

18. Federman i967,p. 61.

19. Each of the three categories of intersex may in turn be subdivided. The medical researchers Paul Guinet and Jacques Decourt separated ninety – eight well-described cases of true hermaphroditism into four major types. Members of the first group (16 percent of the cases) exhibited ‘‘very advanced feminine differentiation’’ (Guinetand Decourt i969,p. 588). They had sepa­rate openings for the vagina and urethra and a cleft vulva defined by both the large and small vaginal lips. At puberty they developed breasts and usually menstruated. Their oversized and sexually alert clitoris, which at puberty sometimes threatened to grow into a penis, usually impelled members of this group to seek medical attention. In fact, even through the 1960s some inter­sexes raised as girls first drew medical attention because they frequently mas­turbated, an activity deemed unseemly for the female. Members of Group II (15 percent) also had breasts, menstruation, and a feminine body type. But their vaginal lips fused to form a partial scrotum. Their phallus (a structure found in the fetus that most frequently becomes either a clitoris or a penis) was from 1.5 to 2.8 inches long, but they urinated through a urethra located in or around the vagina. Most often, true hermaphrodites (55 percent) appear in a more masculine physique. The urethra runs either through or near the phallus, which looks more like a penis than a clitoris. Any menstrual blood exits periodically during urination (a phenomenon known as hematuria, or bloody urine). The vagina (without labia), which opens above a normal­looking scrotum, is often too shallow to permit heterosexual intercourse. Despite the relatively male appearance of the genitalia, however, breasts ap­pear at puberty, as is true for the last group (13 percent), whose phallus and scrotum are completely normal and who have only a vestigial vagina.

Internally, virtually all true hermaphrodites have a uterus and at least one oviduct in various combinations with sperm transport ducts. The data on chromosomal composition are not completely reliable, but it seems that most often true hermaphrodites have two X chromosomes. Quite rarely they are XY, and occasionally they contain mixtures of XX and XY tissue (or other more bizarre groupings of X and Y chromosomes) (Federman 1967). These data are unreliable in that it is virtually impossible with limited tissue sam­pling to eliminate the possibility of genetic mixtures—i. e., mosaics. The most up-to-date work in this arena uses molecular approaches, which can demonstrate the presence or absence of particular genes that are too tiny to

see under the microscope. Evenhere, however, the problem of tissue sampling remains. See, for example, Fechner et al. 1994 and Kuhnle et al. 1994.

20. Blackless et al. 2000, see the list in note 15.

21. The many technical reasons for this can be found in Blackless et al. 2000.

22. As with any genetic trait, different populations have different gene frequencies. Thus my account of albinism is true for the United States but not necessarily for some parts of the world where the albinism gene is more common. The estimate of intersexual births ‘‘requiring’’ surgery comes close to the frequency of cystic fibrosis—1 in 2,500 sufferers—in Caucasian popu­lations.

23. New et al. 1989, pp. 1,888, 1,896; Blackless et al. 1999.

24. Such so-called chimeric embryos are commonly produced by scien­tists studying development in model organisms such as mice. In this case, of course, the chimera was an accident. But given the increase in the number of in vitro fertilizations, such events are bound to happen again (Strain et al. 1998).

25. On environmental estrogens, see Cheek andMcLachlan 1998; Clark etal. i998;Dolketal. 1998; Goldenetal. 1998; Landriganetal. 1998; Olsen etal. 1998 ;Santti etal. 1998; Skakkebaek et al. 1998; and Tyler et al. 1998.

26. The increasing interest among academics in the notion of the cy­borg—part human, part machine—attests to such changes. Humans have pacemakers, artificial hearts, estrogen implants, plastic surgery, and more. Haraway 1991 provides the groundbreaking volume. See also Downey and Dumit 1997.

27. Learning about a child’s chromosomes or genitalia sometimes initi­ates a process of gender definition well before birth. Rapp insists that we listen to the diversity of women’s voices and not assume that we will always be the passive victims of new reproductive technologies (Rapp 1997).

28. Butler i993,p. 2.

29. Speiseretal. 1992; Laue and Rennert 1995; Wilson et al. 1995 ;We- dell 1998; and Kalaitzoglou and New 1993.

30. Laue and Rennert i995,p. 131 and New 1998.

3i. The earliest method involves testing a tissue sample taken from the chorion, one of the protective membranes surrounding the fetus.

32. Laue and Rennert i995,p. 131.

33. Unexpectedly, and for reasons not yet understood, some XY children with CAH have partially feminized genitalia (Pang 1994).

34. See the treatment protocol flow diagrams in Karaviti etal. 1992; Mer­cado et al. 1995; and New 1998.

35. More than a few uncertainties about timing still exist. One study re­ports the birth of a genitally female child, even though dexamethasone treat­ment did not begin until sixteen weeks of development (Quercia et al. 1998).

36. Mercadoetal. 1993.

37. Lajicl etal. 1998.

38. The tests are either sampling of the chorion or the better-known am­niocentesis.

39. Pang 199^ pp. i63-66.

40. Trautman et al. 1993.

41. Seckl and Miller i997,p. i,077. These authors also write: ‘‘The eth­ics of needlessly subjecting 7 of 8 fetuses at risk for CAH to an experimental therapy with unknown long-term consequences remain unresolved, and the long-term safety and outcome have not been established. Therefore, such pre­natal treatment remains an experimental therapy’’ (p. 1,078).

42. Mercadoetal. 1993.

43. Trautman et al. 1996.

44. See, for example, Speiser and New 1994 a, b.

43. Donahoeetal. 1991.

46. іЬі^ p. 327.

47. Lee I994, p. 38.

48. Flatau et al. 1973. Recently, standards have been published for penis size in premature infants. Does this mean we will start to see genital surgery on premature infants? See Tuladhar et al. 1998. The concern is that a micro­penis unrelated to the prematurity be recognized right away so that treatment or sex reassignment will not be delayed.

49. Donahoeetal. 1991.

30. I owe this phrase to Leonore Tiefer, who has written persuasively about the normalization of demands for certain types of sexual function. The upsurge of demand for Viagra suggests that the idealization of penile function does not reflect the norm of daily life (Tiefer i994aand 1994b).

31. These authors note that theirs is the first study of the normal distribu­tion of the urethral opening and should form a basis for deciding whether hypospadias surgery is needed (Fichtner et al. 1993).

32. The assertion comes from the American Council of Surgery, training tape ACS-1613: ‘‘Surgical Reconstruction of Ambiguous Genitalia in Female Children’’ (1994).

33. Newman et al. 1992a, write that what matters ‘‘is the presence of a . . . phallus sufficient in size to function as a male urinary conduit, to offer a satisfactory appearance when compared to peers, and to function satisfacto­rily for sexual activity’’ (p. 646); see also Kupfer et al. 1992, esp. p. 328.

34. Donahoe and Lee i98 8,p. 233.

33. Obsession with organ size is not universal. The Greeks thought the smaller penis to be more manly and sexy.

36. Kessler i998.

37. Sripathi et al. i997, pp. 786—87. A commentator on this example wrote: ‘‘It has to be accepted that attitudes towards sex of rearing and in par­ticular toward feminizing genitoplasties in late-diagnosed patients with CAH in the Middle East is going to be very different from those in Europe’’ (Frank i997, p. 789). See also Ozbey 1998; and Abdullah et al. 1991.

58. Kessler i99o, pp. 18—19.

59. Hendricks 1993, p. 13. For more on the attitudes of some surgeons, see Miller 1993.

60. See, for example, the discussions of clitoral size in Kumar et al. 1974.

61. Riley and Rosenbloom 1980.

62. Oberfield et al. 1989; see also Sane and Pescovitz 1992.

63. Lee I994, p. 59.

64. Doctors refer to such cases as ‘‘idiopathic clitoromegaly’’—that is, the clitoris is enlarged for unknown reasons.

65. Gross et al. 1966.

66. Fausto-Sterling 1993c.

67. See Dr. Milton T. Edgerton’s discussion in Sagehashi 1993, p. 956; Masters and Johnson 1966. Ina 1994 telephone interview, Dr. Judson Randolf told me he developed the less drastic operation for clitoral recession after one of his surgical nurses questioned the need for complete clitorectomy.

68. Randolf and Hung i97o, p. 230.

69. Smith 1997.

70. Steckeretal. i98i, p. 539.

7i. The following is a sample of the most recent publications on hypo­spadias: Abu-Arafeh et al. 1998; Andrews et al. 1998; Asopa 1998; Calda – mone et al. 1998; De Grazia et al. 1998; Devesa et al. 1998; Dolk 1998; Dolk et al. 1998; Duel et al. 1998; Fichtner et al. 1998; Figueroa and Fitzpatrick 1998; Gittes etal. 1998; Hayashi, Maruyama, etal. 1998; Hayashi, Mogami, et al. 1998; Hoebeke et al. 1997; Johnson and Coleman 1998; Kojima et al. 1998; Kropfl etal. 1998; Lindgren etal. 1998; Njinou etal. 1998; Nonomura etal. 1998; Perovic 1998; Perovic and Djordjevic 1998; Perovic, Djordjevic, et al. 1998; Perovic, Vukadinovic, et al. 1998; Piro et al. 1998; Retik and Borer 1998; Rosenbloom 1998; Rushton and Belman 1998; Snodgrass et al. 1998; Titley and Bracka 1998; Tuladhar et al. 1998; Vandersteen and Hus – mann 1998; and Yavuzer et al. 1998. A multiyear search of Medline using the entry word hypospadias located well over 2,000 medical publications on the topic. For an accurate defense of hypospodias surgery see Glassberg, 1999.

72. See, for example, Duckett and Snyder 1992; Gearhart and Borland 1992; Koyanagi et al. 1994; Andrews et al. 1998; Duel etal. 1998; Hayashi, Mogami, etal. 1998; Retik and Borer 1998; Vandersteen and Husmann 1998; Issa and Gearhart 1989; Jayanthi et al. 1994; Teague et al. 1994; and Ehrlich and Alter i996.

73. Duckett i996,p. 134.

74. Hampson and Hampson write: ‘‘body appearance does have an impor­tant, indirect bearing on the development of psychologic functioning, in­eluding that which we term gender role or psychosexual orientation’’ Hamp – son and Hampson 1961 ,p. 1,415.

75. Ibid. , p. i,4I7.

76. Peris i960, p. 165.

77. Slijperetal. i994,pp. io-ii.

78. Ibid., p. i4.

79. Leeetal. i98o, pp. i6i-62.

80. Forest i98i, p. i49.

81. For an argument against early gonadeetomy, see Diamond and Sig – mundson i997a.

82. Kessler i99o, p. 23.

83. They wrote: ‘‘the sex of assignment and rearing is consistently and conspicuously a more reliable prognosticator of a hermaphrodite’s gender role and orientation than is the chromosomal sex, gonadal sex, the hormonal sex, the accessory internal reproductive morphology, or the ambiguous morphol­ogy of the external genitalia’’ (Money et al i957, pp. 333—34).

84. This is at odds with the mother’s statements thirty years later, when she confirmed John’s memories of trying to rip off his frilly dresses. Memory and interpretation of a third party often pose difficulties in evaluating the utility of evidence from case studies.

85. Money and Ehrhardt i97 2,pp. i44—45,p. i52. Money said he wanted to root out the nineteenth – and early-twentieth-century ‘‘tyranny of the go­nads’’ (Dreger i998b), which he felt often led to a sex assignment that was psychologically unwarranted. This rhetoric, however, does not really ring true, since physicians such as W H. Young, whose work Money had to have known, had long since let go of using gonads alone to assign sex. Perhaps Money simply wanted to bring this work to a larger and still benighted audi­ence of practitioners out in the boondocks. Perhaps, too, he was merely riding a larger wave of i95os neo-Freudian psychology that emphasized the impor­tance of a ‘‘proper family’’ and role models provided by a bread-earning dad and a stay-at-home mom. It will require more historical work to figure out exactly what Money’s ideological commitments were and how they shaped his studies.

86. It is not clear why such a seemingly radical viewpoint gained such complete control of the medical discourse, making it impossible until very recently to challenge Money and his colleagues’ approach to the treatment of intersex. Kessler writes: ‘‘Unlike the media, my interest in this case is not whether it supports a biological or a social theory of gender development but why gender theorists (including McKenna and myself) were too eager to embrace Money’s theory ofgender plasticity. Why also did it become the only theory taught to parents of intersexed infants?’’ (Kessler i998,p. 7).

87. In the acknowledgment of his paper, Diamond writes, ‘‘I am indebted to Robert W Goy, who originally suggested the writing of this paper, and to Drs. William C. Young, Charles H. Phoenix, and Arnold A. Gerall for enlightening discussion of the theories and problems involved in a presenta­tion of this type’’ (Diamond 1965^. 169) Zucker writes: ‘‘Thus in a wonder­fully dialectical manner, while Money and his colleagues were emphasizing the importance of psychosocial factors on aspects of psychosexual differenti­ation in humans, a method, a paradigm, and a theory of biological factors on psychosexual differentiation in lower animals were also being articulated’’ (Zucker 1996, p. 151).

88. Later, Robert W Goy extended this approach to studies of rhesus monkeys. This paradigm is articulated in its most influential form in Phoenix et al. 1959. I discuss the paradigm and this paper in detail in chapter 8.

89. The history of this organizational/activational theory in rodents is another story (see chapter 8 of this book), and the extent of its applicability to primates is still a matter of contention (see Bleier 1984 and Byne 1995).

90. Diamond 1965.

91. Ibid., pp. 148, 150; emphasis added.

92. Diamond wrote: ‘‘although humans can adjust to an erroneously im­posed gender role, (a) it does not mean that prenatal factors are not normally influential, and (b) that they do so with difficulty if not prenatally and biologi­cally disposed.’’ He also argued that humans share a common vertebrate heri­tage and should thus be expected to have developmental systems similar to other animals (Diamond 1965^. 150; emphasis in original).

93. Diamond’s characterization of Money’s theory seems inaccurate to me. His depicts a psychosexually undifferentiated child whose gender identity seems to develop only in response to environmental upbringing. At first, it seems, there is complete choice about gender identity, but after a critical pe­riod in early childhood in which choice becomes restricted, new learning ex­periences would ‘‘enlarge and direct sexual development’’ (idem, p. 168). Money’s actual position shifted with time, and even in his early publications he did not always support the idea of complete neutrality at birth. In order to distinguish clearly his own model, Diamond chose the most extreme version of Money’s sometimes inconsistent ideas. On this point, see also Zucker 1996.

94. Diamond 1965^. 168.

95. His work was published, followed by Money’s negative review of the paper (Zuger 1970; Money 1970). There was also a brief, unanswered paper in the British Medical Journal published in 1966. It also provides a rare firsthand account of how delighted the child was to change from female to male at age thirteen, and his later successful development and marriage (Armstrong 1966).

96. Zuger i970,p. 461.

97. Money includes Diamond in his list of negative examples (Money ^70 p. 464).

98. Money and Ehrhardt i972,p. 154. Money and Ehrhardthere citeboth Zuger and Diamond as negative examples.

99. Diamond 1982^.183.

100. Ibid. p. 184.

101. Quoted in Colapinto i997,p. 92.

102. Angier 1997b. Even in 1997, Money’s viewpoint was so widely ac­cepted that Diamond and Sigmundson could not, at first, get their paper pub­lished (Diamond, personal communication 1998).

103. Diamond and Sigmundson 1997b, p. 303; emphasis added. See also 1997a and Reiner 1997. In this passage Diamond has a hard time following his own advice to avoid using terms such as normal vs. mal-developed, see para­graph 3,p. i,046.

104. See, for example, Gilbert et al. 1993; Meyer-Bahlburg et al. 1996; Reiner 1996; Diamond 1997b; Reiner 1997a, b.; Phornputkul et al. 2000; VanWyk 1999; Bin-Abbas et al. 1999.

105. Cf. Diamond and Sigmundson 1997a and 1997b with Meyer – Bahlburg et al. i996;Zucker 1996; and Bradley et al. 1998.

106. Diamond and Sigmundson 1997b, p. 304. See also: Lee and Grup – puso 1999, and Chase 1999.

107. Bradley et al. 1998, pp. 6—8 of printout of electronic article.

108. Here are some of their comments: ‘‘I find it interesting that the au­thors … do not investigate the possible effects of ‘negative nurture’ . . . which seem to leap right off the page: while John had a well-adjusted male twin and a supportive, loving father, Bradley’s patient had an alcoholic father who left when she was 3—4 . . . followed by an alcoholic stepfather. No won­der she denied ever feeling that she had wanted to be male,’’ ‘‘At 26 I was— ostensibly—happily, heterosexually married to a man; had a team of doctors shown up to ask me how I was, that is most certainly what I would have told them. Two years later I was divorced and pursuing further corrective surgery to normalize [to make more male-like] my genitalia’’ to make me more attrac­tive to females. ‘‘I have been living as a male since March of 1998.’’ Several others commented that at twenty-six their gender identities were not yet ‘‘finished.’’ Indeed, a concept one finds throughout this debate is that there is but one true stable identity that individuals must find and live with. A sad case is one who never even knows his or her true identity (‘‘I’m sure he’s transsex­ual but he doesn’t know it’’).

Finally, intersexual commentators about both papers argued that ‘‘what is read as rejection of being regendered could also be the rejection of a traumatic situation vis-a-vis being intimately studied.’’ Despite the trauma of hospital­ization, surgery, and frequent genital exams, ‘‘the papers mentioned re­mained focused on the question of gender identity order/disorder rather than questions of personal bodily integrity and violation.’’ Only a few scholars in this field have raised the general question of how any surgical trauma early in development might affect later behavior and development. During this on­line debate, some of the sexologists politely thanked the intersexual corre­spondents for their thoughts, but none took on their substantive points. To do so would have made it even more difficult to interpret and thus enter medical case studies in the service of particular theories of gender formation.

109. Money 1998,pp. 113—14.

no. Berube i99o, p. 258.

in. Hampson and Hampson 1961, p. i,425. Money et al. 1956, p. 49, list three treated hermaphrodites as ‘‘mildly unhealthy’’ because they ‘‘had homosexual desires and inclinations.’’

112. Money et al. 1955b, pp. 291—92. ‘‘It is important,’’ one group writes, ‘‘that the parents have plenty ofopportunity to express. . . their fears for the future, such as. . . fear for an abnormal sexual nature. Parents will feel reassured when they know that their daughter can develop heterosexually just like other children and that male characteristics are impossible’’ (Slijper et al. 1994, pp. 14—15). Note here, too, how lesbianism is associated with maleness. See also Dittmann et al. 1992, who write: ‘‘In our clinical experi­ence many parents—some from the day of diagnosis on—are deeply con­cerned about the psychosexual development and sexual orientation of their CAH daughters. Thus we recommend… all these aspects of psychosexual development, sexual behavior and sexual orientation should be considered and included in the clinical and psychosocial care of CAH patients and their families’’ (p. 164). I, of course, agree that such matters must be part of the counseling and sex education offered to intersex families. My point here is that responsibility for concerns about homosexuality are attributed to the family, whereas the treatment team always presents itself as being liberally open – minded on such matters. Never have I come across a therapist or physician who, in the literature on intersexuals has written something like: ‘‘I used to think homosexuality was an unhealthy outcome but now I realize it is not. I have, therefore, changed my treatment approach and analysis in the follow­ing ways.’’

113. See Money and Ehrhardt 1972, chapters 7 and 8, for a comparison of matched pairs ofintersexuals who, according to the authors, develop different gender identities depending upon the sex of rearing. This type of case study comparison is rhetorically enormously powerful.

114. All of which lends credence to Suzanne Kessler and Wendy McKen­na’s argument that gender is socially constructed and sex a misleading term. They write that ‘‘the 2-bodied system is not a given—that people are respon­sible for it’’ Kessler and McKenna personal communication, 1998, see also Kessler and McKenna 1978; Kessler 1998. This does notmean, as some skep­tics might suggest, that people make bodies. It means they make the system that categorizes them, and a system of just two bodies is not the only possible system. As I discuss in the following chapter, a greater tolerance for sexual diversity may well lead to an era in which we no longer think of there being merely two sexes.

115. Money and Ehrhardt 1972, p. 235. Emphasis added. Money and Dalery (1976) write: ‘‘a formula for creating the perfect female homosexual… on the criteria of chromosomal and gonadal sex is to take a chromosomal and gonadal female fetus and to flood the system with masculinizing hormone during the. . . period when the external genitals. . . are being differentiated. Then assign the baby as a boy at birth’’ (p. 369). Note that in Money’s view, the perfect female homosexual has a penis and a masculinized brain! Kessler describes these situations in the following manner: ‘‘In what sense could a woman with a vagina who is sexually gratified by being penetrated by a ‘woman’ with a large clitoris (that looks and functions like a penis) be said to be a lesbian? If gendered bodies fall into disarray, sexual orientation will fol­low. Defining sexual orientation according to attraction to people with the same or different genitals, as is done now, will no longer make sense’’ Kessler i998,p. i25.

116. Diamond 1965, p. 158; Diamond and Sigmundson 1997a, pp. i,046—1,048. But see also some occasional slips, such as his use of the word normal here: ‘‘The evidence seems overwhelming that normal humans are not psychosexually neutral at birth but are, in keeping with their mammalian her­itage, predisposed and biased to interact with environmental, familial and social forces in either a male or a female mode’’ (idem, p. 303).

117. Kessler and McKenna 1978. They write: ‘‘We will use gender, rather than sex, even when referring to those aspects of being a woman (girl) or man (boy) that have traditionally been viewed as biological. This will serve to emphasize our position that the element of social construction is primary in all aspects of being female or male, particularly when the term we use seems awkward (e. g., gender chromosomes)’’ (p. 7).

118. Whether these differences really exist, when during development they might appear and how we can fairly measure them is not under discussion here. (See Fausto-Sterling 1992b).

Even where we agree on the existence of such differences, the question of their origin remains. Will we rely primarily on a biological model of differ­ence, in which gender is layered over a preexisting bodily foundation, which we call sex?

119. How, specifically, does this cash out in our ideas about masculinity, femininity, and sexual desire? To understand contemporary medical studies we must start, as is so often the case, with the Victorians. Men, our queenly forebears asserted, had active sexual desire, while women were passionless to the point of asexuality. Women’s inborn passivity, wrote the German sexolo­gist Richard von Krafft-Ebing, ‘‘lies in her sexual organization [nature/sex], and is not founded merely on the dictates of good breeding (nurture/gender)’’ (quoted in Katz 1995, p. 31). In this system of thought a woman who had strong sexual desire, especially if she desired another woman, had, by defini­tion, become masculine. To be a lesbian meant to invert the sexual order, to be a psychological and emotional man in a woman’s body. (Money and Dalery i976,p. 369). During the first quarter of the twentieth century, at least when writing about sex in marriage, sexologists such as Havelock Ellis acknowl­edged that women experienced sexual passion. Nevertheless, he and others applied the concept of the invert to women who behaved like men: they were aggressive, might smoke cigars, dressed like men, and took other women as love objects. The passive woman in a lesbian relationship did not appear to be lesbian. For a more detailed discussion of these points, see Chauncey 1989 and Jackson 1987. As Radclyffe Hall melodramatically displayed in her novel The Well of Loneliness (1928), the ‘‘passive’’ partner could as easily run off with a man. Some major theorists of male homosexuality also held firmly to a model of complete gender inversion. The German reformer and homosexual rights advocate Magnus Hirschfeld, for example, considered the male invert to be hermaphroditic in both mind and body. He searched not only for behav­ioral clues but for intermediate body types. For a time he teamed up with the hormone researcher Eugen Steinach, who delighted him by claiming to have found special cells in the testes of male homosexuals. These cells, they be­lieved, were responsible for producing hormones that feminized the invert in body and mind. Steinach’s hormone research is important in the construction of knowledge about supposed male and female hormones. I discuss his work in more detail in chapter 6. For a fascinating account of the collaboration between Hirschfeld and Steinach, see Sengoopta 1998.

120. Much of what follows could certainly be applied to work on differ­ences in spatial ability, but to avoid repetition of the principle point I will not discuss this work in detail. Some key references are Hines 1990; Hines and Collaer 1993; Sinforiani et al. 1994; and Hampson et al. 1998. Hines and Collaer suggest that any relationship between prenatal testosterone levels and increased spatial abilities could be secondary to hormone-influenced differ­ences in play patterns. They also find that data supporting the idea that sex differences in mathematics are caused by prenatal androgen exposure ‘‘are weak’’ (p. 19).

121. Abramovich et al 1987.

122. Magee and Miller 1997, p. 19. See also Fuss 1993 and Magid 1993. There is an alternate theory of male homosexuality as hypermasculinity (Sen­goopta 1998). According to some, such hypermasculinity explains why gay men in the modern U. S. are so sexually active. By analogy, lesbians may over­express female sexuality, seen as a lack of sexual desire. This viewpoint has been used to explain so-called lesbian bed death (Symons 1979).

123. In contrast, lowered androgen exposure and even severe penile hy­pospadias were not seen to ‘‘interfere with the development of gender-typical masculine behavior’’ in XY children (Sandberg and Meyer-Bahlburg 1995, P – 693)-

124. In an earlier work I critiqued many of these studies, as did Ruth Bleier (Fausto-Sterling 1992; Bleier 1984). A small number of very recent studies have responded to the critiques by including in their experimental design blind assessments of behavior or by trying to find appropriate con­trols—e. g., other children suffering from non-sex-related chronic illness. But on the whole, the design of all these studies leaves much to be desired. I do not plan to rehash the experimental problems here so much as I want to show how our gender system has dictated the design ofthese studies and lim­ited the interpretations of the data.

125. It could be otherwise. For example, there are orthogonal models of masculinity and femininity suggesting that masculinity and femininity are independent traits. Researchers using an orthogonal model might still study CAH girls. But they would look for different behaviors and use differently structured questionnaires (Constantinople 1973). Spence writes: ‘‘The mul­tidimensional nature of sex-role and other gender-related phenomena is also beginning to be recognized. Although gender identity may be essentially di­morphic, the general statement that masculine and feminine attributes and behaviors cannot or do not coexist has been effectively refuted’’ (Spence 1984). See also Bem 1993. Still other researchers might decide to use CAH girls to investigate the long-term effects of chronic illness and repeated sur­geries on gender-related play, rehearsal for adulthood, and postpubertal love object choice. Interesting effects of hormones could still emerge if they chose to compare hormonally caused chronic illness with other types.

126. Psychologists have often used the term tomboyism to define masculin­ity in CAH children. The imprecision of that term, perhaps after years of feminist critique, seems to have led recent writers to replace it with more specifically defined behavioral measures.

127. One set of studies distinguishes between the severe ‘‘salt-wasting’’ form of CAH, in which there do seem to be activity differences in affected girls, and the ‘‘simple-virilizing’’ form, for which masculine behavior is less pronounced. Many early studies did not distinguish between these two forms of the disease, which may well result in different behavior patterns. Explaining the behavioral differences presents the standard conundrum between biologi­cal and social possibilities. (See Dittmann et al. 1990a and 1990b).

128. Magee and Miller 1997, p. 83; Hines and Collaer 1993,p. 10.

129. Magee and Miller 1997. The pet care finding is from Leveroni and Berenbaum 1998. They offer several possible explanations—for example, that ‘‘CAH girls may spend more time with pets because they are less inter­ested in infants but not less nurturant overall than controls’’ (p. 335). This would imply that testosterone interferes with the development of interest in infants, but that some general character called nurturance, which could get directed everywhere but to children, existed independently of high andro­gen levels.

130. Magee and Miller i997,p. 87.

131. Dittmann et al. 1992^.164.

132. Hines and Collaer i993,p. 12.

133. In other words, they do ‘‘good science’’ by most measures (grants, publication, peer review, promotions). The science looks funny only if one acknowledges the possibility of other logical systems.

134. Consider a single study by the psychologists Sheri Berenbaum and Melissa Hines: Boys like to play with construction sets and trucks, but girls prefer dolls, dollhouses, and toy kitchen equipment. Many psychologists have found such average sex differences in studies of play preferences in young chil­dren. (Obviously the particular toys are culturally specific. However, sex differences in play preferences are culturally widespread, albeit differently expressed in different cultures). See also Maccoby, E., 1998. But how do such preferences come about? Berenbaum and Hines agree that children learn pref­erences from other children; but, they suggest, such learning cannot tell the entire story. ‘‘We present evidence that these sex-typed toy preferences are also related to prenatal or neonatal hormones (androgens)’’ (Berenbaum and Hines 1992, p. 203). Citing myriad animal studies showing the influence of hormones on the brain and behavior, they note that CAH girls present ‘‘a unique opportunity to study hormonal influences on human sex-typed behav­ior’’ (p. 203). In their introduction, the authors take note of the design defi­ciencies of previous work and vow in this study to do better. Specifically, they note four major problems (many of which both Bleier and I have raised as well (Bleier 1984, Fausto-Sterling 1992b). Previous studies (a) assessed behavior from interviews rather than direct observation, (b) were not done blind, i. e., those who assessed the data knew whether they were dealing with experimen­tal or control subjects, (c) assessed behaviors as present or absent rather than as part of a continuum, and (d) often treated masculine and feminine behav­iors as the far ends of a single continuum, rather than considering that they could both exist in the same individual.

They kept their vow. Compared to earlier studies, this one was, indeed, well done. One key difference (to which I will return shortly) was that Beren­baum and Hines considered the severity of CAH in the girls they observed. They looked, for example, at the age at diagnosis and the degree of genital virilization. They videotaped play sessions in which both boys and girls had access to male – and female-preferred toys as well as some gender-neutral op­tions (toys preferred equally by both sexes). Neutral toys included books, game boards, and jigsaw puzzles). Finally, they had videotapes rated by two separate raters, neither of whom knew the status or identity of the children whose play choices they counted.

Berenbaum and Hines’s major positive finding was that, compared to un­affected girl relatives, the CAH girls chose boys’ toys more often and played with them longer—as often and as long as did the boys. They also played less with girls’ toys, but not significantly so. They suggest this small effect size for CAH versus control in time spent with girls’ toys may be an experimental artifact (p. 204). Finally, and it is their treatment of this last point that I want to examine, ‘‘the amount of time spent playing with sex-typed toys was not significantly related to any disease characteristic’’ (pp. 204—05), including the degree of virilization. They do not give specific data on possible correlations with time of diagnosis, but this too would be important information. (I sus­pect their sample size was too small to say anything one way or another.) But this information might be of interest if one assumes that the longer a child goes untreated, the longer will have been her exposure to unusual levels of androgen, hence the greater the likelihood of seeing a hormone effect— if, indeed, such exists. Furthermore, postnatal hormone exposure could be quite interesting to study because in theory, it would afford scientists the chance to look at how hormones and experience might co-produce some be­havior patterns. This makes special sense for humans because so much critical brain development occurs after birth. But the framework of the animal re­search used by these investigators makes it much less likely that they will think to ask such questions, which really require a different frame of reference and research program. There are other animal behavior traditions that would logi­cally lead, to such types of questions. I discuss these in chapters 1 and 9 of this book. See also Gottlieb 1997.

Why should it matter if the degree to which CAH girls prefer boys’ toys correlates significantly with how virilized their genitalia are? Remember that they want to compare their work to a vast literature on animal development. In this experimental terrain, researchers know when in the developmental process they inject test hormones and at what concentrations. To define criti­cal developmental periods, they vary the time of injection and inject different amounts of hormone to show a dose response (the higher the dose, the greater the effect). Such experimental fine-tuning is impossible in human studies. For how long and at which developmental stages were these girls exposed to high androgen levels? We don’t know. What hormone levels were they exposed to? We don’t know. Such information, in the long run, is critical to interpreting the results of studies on CAH girls, but it is for all intents and purposes un­available. Hence the need to fall back on arguments from the animal literature and allusions to ‘‘our common vertebrate heritage’’ (Diamond and Sigmund – son 1997b) and to rely on imperfect but important internal controls.

One such control is the degree of virilization. The fetal testis begins to secrete androgens eight weeks after fertilization and continues at high levels even as their production begins to drop off during the second and into the third trimester. Under their influence the internal and external genitals de­velop (see figure 3.1). Usually, the overall shaping of a boy’s external organs occurs during weeks 9 to 12 of embryonic development, but growth and fine – tuning continues until birth and beyond. The genitalia, of course, grow slowly throughout childhood and more dramatically at puberty. Although the timing I describe is the statistical norm, it is not the only known developmental path­way. In one well-studied genetic variation, called 3-alpha-reductase defi­ciency, males are born with very feminine-looking genitals. But at puberty, the clitoris enlarges into a penis and the vaginal lips fuse to form a scrotum into which their testes descend. Given that fetal testosterone is present even in the third trimester (see graph on p. 292 of O’Rahilly and Muller 1996), possible effects on brain development could occur over a broad period of time, during which the central nervous system is developing apace.

CAH girls, of course, don’t have testes. It is their adrenal glands that mas­culinize their genitalia, but the timing of these events is uncertain. The lack of information on this point is in stunning contrast to the impressive detail available on the molecular aspects of the CAH family of enzyme malfunction. Dr. Maria New and her colleagues write: ‘‘Adrenocortical cell differentiation occurs early in embryogenesis, with the formation of a provisional fetal zone, active for the remainder of gestation, that involutes after birth. Although the schedule of evolving steroid synthesis in the fetal and adult (permanent) zones has not been completely elucidated, it is clear that genital development in the fetus takes place under the influence of active adrenal steroid biosynthesis’’ (New et al. 1989, p. 1,887; emphasis added). In other words, there are two sources of adrenal hormones: the fetal adrenal cortex, which develops toward the end of the second month of development, and the permanent, which develops late in fetal development. The fetal adrenal cortex regresses and disappears by one year after birth. O’Rahilly and Muller 1996 write: ‘‘The functions of the fetal cortex are not entirely clear, but its enormous size is believed to be associated with a similarly great capacity for steroid production’’ (pp. 324—23). In the extreme it is possible the CAH girls experience elevated androgens from eight weeks after fertilization until some time after birth—a different pattern of exposure than XY boys experience. Interfering with fetal adrenal androgen production during the first trimester can allow female genitals to develop, but there is a lot of variability in the anatomical effects of CAH (Mercado et al. 1993, Speiser and New 1994a, b). If the level of adrenal androgen overpro­duction is low, or if overproduction starts late in development, CAH girls will presumably have more feminized genitals. If hormone concentrations are extremely high or start very early in development, the genitalia may become highly masculinized. Suppose in Berenbaum and Hines’s study the degree of virilization had correlated with the degree ofboy toy preference. An embryol­ogist (such as myself) would argue that the result supported an argument that ‘‘early hormone exposure in females has a masculinizing effect on sex-typed toy preferences’’ (Berenbaum and Hines 1992). Why? Because if increased virilization measures heightened or prolonged androgen levels, and if andro­gen levels change behavior in an incremental fashion, then the more androgen (up to a point), the more of the measured behavior. What does it mean that they found no such correlation?

Here we arrive at the crux of the matter. For meaning to emerge from a set of data requires a frame of vision. My embryologist’s frame of vision led me to understand the degree of virilization as a possible measure of how much androgen exposure a particular CAH girl had experienced. But Berenbaum and Hines did not use the degree of virilization as a control for hormone dose. For them a positive correlation would have provided evidence against, notfor, their hypothesis. This is because some have suggested that parents might treat girls with penises differently than ones without penises. Or the children themselves might react to a more male-like body image. (I confess, in fact, that I am one of those who raised these possibilities. I did so from my other frame of reference—that of a feminist activist. This framework, I remind the reader, leads me to extreme skepticism toward theories focusing on the biological causes of behavior, especially sexual and racial differences that seem, always, to end up in the middle of discussions of social equality [Fausto – Sterling 1992]). As I write (mid-December 1998), for example, a discussion rages on Loveweb about the meaning of equal opportunity. Quoting anony­mously (and with changed names) from one of the participants, a highly re­spected researcher in the field of hormones and behavior: ‘‘John says he has no interest in eliminating sex differences. Susan says neither does she, but wants only equality of opportunity. The implication is that the existence of sex differences does not necessarily lead to inequality ofopportunity. I suspect there are some on this list who would argue that as long as sex differences exist, equality of opportunity cannot be achieved. Does this latter view reflect a belief that all sex differences are socially constructed and therefore embody inequality of opportunity? Thus my question. Do sex differences have to be eliminated to achieve equality of opportunity between the sexes? For exam­ple, will equal opportunity exist only when males and females can both ges – tate babies?’’

If parental behavior or altered body image were the key, the changed be­haviors might not result from the direct effects of hormones on the brain. Since there was no correlation, Berenbaum and Hines reasoned, there must be no difference in how parents socialized CAH girls and their unaffected relatives. (They did assess parental attitudes using a questionnaire, but felt their methods on this point left uncertainty. They noted that direct observa­tion of parent-child interaction, using blind assessments, would give more reliable information.) Thus they could safely conclude that androgens affect the developing male’s brain, leading him to prefer trucks and building blocks as a toddler. Hines and Collaer 1993 further consider this question. Again they use the lack of virilization to refute interpretations based on nurture cues, arguing instead for a direct effect of androgen on the developing brain. They do worry more about what the lack of correlation might mean in terms of the embryo: ‘‘In humans,’’ androgen levels are elevated in developing males compared to developing females from approximately week 8—24 of gestation and again from approximately the first to the sixth month of infancy. Because genital development occurs before brain development, one speculation would be that degree of genital virilization among CAH girls reflects the time of onset of the disorder, whereas behavioral changes reflect the degree of andro­gen elevation during later periods. If so, behavioral and physical virilization would correlate. Alternatively, the lack of a clear correspondence could relate to differences in enzymes needed to produce active hormones’’ (Hines and Collaer 1993, pp. 7—8). They also quote the single study (Goy et al. 1988) from primates (rhesus monkeys) in which one androgen-influenced behavior (rough play) is independent of the degree of virilization; others, such as mounting, correlate with levels of virilization. In this study the authors also found that mother rhesus monkeys inspected male genitals and masculinized female genitals a lot more often than they did unaffected female genitals. Fur­thermore, in this study, prenatal androgenization cannot produce a ‘‘pure’’ male behavioral response in masculinized females. Why? Possibly the andro­gen treatments weren’t at the critical period of brain development. Or possi­bly behavioral development is more complex and includes effects from postna­tal behavioral interactions. Note also how misleading is the title of Goy et al.’s paper: ‘‘Behavioral masculinization is independent of genital masculinization in prenatally female Rhesus monkeys.’’ Why not ‘‘Some behavioral masculini­zation is independent’’? Such a title would more accurately represent the con­tents of the paper. My biologist self is wrestling also with the validity of ex­trapolating studies on CAH children to unaffected male development. This is because the timing of hormone exposure is probably different. In most XY fetuses, testes make the hormones between months two and six with levels tapering off thereafter. In CAH fetuses, however, adrenal androgen produc­tion may begin during the latter third of the first trimester and continue until treatment begins (after birth). In one case hormone exposure is episodic, and in the other it is tonic. Brain development is continuous from the third week of development (and possibly until we die!). I have never seen a hypothesis about what region of the brain is suspected of being responsible for play, nur­turing, and other childhood behaviors. Thus it is impossible to know which periods of development might be critical in terms of hormone/brain interac­tion. It surprises me that even in the primate studies, the question of what is happening in brain development during the period of experimental hormone injection is not discussed. Later, others suggest, he or his CAH female coun­terpart may become more aggressive (Berenbaumand Resnick 1997), develop better spatial abilities (Hampson et al. 1998), be less interested in taking care of babies (Leveroni and Berenbaum 1998), and desire women as sex and love objects. For additional discussion of female object choice in CAH women, see Zucker et al. 1996.

135. Butler 1993, p. xi. For a related analysis of hermaphrodites at the limits of subjectivity, see Grosz 1966.

136. In this analysis, a man or a woman would be someone whose chro­mosomes, fetal gonads and hormones, fetal, child, and adult genitals, adult gonads, and sexual orientation were each and all culturally intelligible as either male or female. When one or more of these components of gender differ from the others (as with intersexuals), they become uninterpretable bodies—i. e., culturally unintelligible.

137. Butler i993,p. xi.

138. Sawicki 1991, p. 88. Lesbians using these technologies to create ‘‘natural’’ biological families is one good example.

Chapter 4: Should There Be Only Two Sexes?

1. Fausto-Sterling 1993a. The piece was reprinted on the Op-Ed page of the New York Times under the title ‘‘How Many Sexes Are There?’’ Fausto – Sterling 1994.

2. This is the same organization that tried to close down the Off Broadway play ‘‘Corpus Christi’’ (by Terence McNally) during the fall season of 1998 in New York City.

3. Rights 1993 Section 4, p. ii. The syndicated columnist E. Thomas McClanahan took up the attack as well. ‘‘What the heck,’’ he wrote, ‘‘why settle for five genders? Why not press for an even dozen?’’ (McClanahan 1993 p. B6). Pat Buchanan also joined the chorus: ‘‘They say there aren’t two sexes, there are five genders. … I tell you this: God created man and woman—I don’t care what Bella Abzug says’’ (quoted in TheAdvocate, October 31, 1993). Columnist Marilyn vos Savant writes: ‘‘There are men and there are women—no matter how they’re constructed. . . and that’s that’’ (vos Savant I996 p. 6).

4. Money i994.

3. Scott’s novel won the Lambda Literary Award in i993. She specifically acknowledged my work on her web site.

6. See, for example, Rothblatt 1995; Burke 1996; and Diamond 1996.

7. Spence has been writing for some time about the impossibility ofthese terms. See, e. g., Spence 1984 and 1985.

8. For activists working for change see the Intersex Society of North

America (http://www. isna. org) and Chase i998a, b; and Harmon-Smith 1998. For academics in addition to myself, see Kessler 1990; Dreger 1993; Diamond and Sigmundson i997a, b; Dreger 1998b; Kessler 1998; Preves 1998; Kipnis and Diamond 1998; Dreger 1998c. For physicians who aremov – ing toward (or embracing) the new paradigm see Schober i998; Wilson and Reiner 1998; and Phornphutkul et al. 1999. More cautiously, Meyer – Bahlburg suggests modest changes in medical practice, including giving more thought to gender assignment (an ‘‘optimal gender policy’’), elimination of nonconsensual surgery for mild degrees of genital abnormalities, and provi­sion of more support services for intersex persons and their parents. He also calls for obtaining more data on long-term outcomes (Meyer-Bahlburg 1998).

9. See comments by Chase (1998 aand 1998b). Chase has repeatedly tried to get the attention of mainstream American feminists through venues like Ms. Magazine and the academic journal Signs, but has been unable to stir their interest in the question of genital surgery on American newborns. It seems it is much more comfortable to confront the practices of other cultures than it is our own. The surgeon Justine Schober writes: ‘‘To this date, no studies of clitoral surgery address the long term results of erotic sexual sensitivity’’ (Schober 1998, p.550). Costa et al. 1997 report that of eight clitorectomized patients, two reported no orgasm during intercourse. Some who report or­gasm find it much diminished compared to before surgery. Others find it so difficult to achieve that it becomes not worth the trouble.

10. Thankfully, some physicians are open to new ideas. Mine have struck a chord with one local pediatric endocrinologist, and we have presented a case and the new thinking about how to manage intersexual births in a Grand Rounds. The surgeon discussed here did not attend, but one other surgeon did.

One local surgeon, although a colleague in the Brown Medical School, has never acknowledged my many communications. These included copies of publications such as Hermaphrodites with Attitude and Alias (a newsletter of the AIS Support Group), as well as drafts of my own writing, for which I solicited feedback. After reading an article in an in-house newsletter delineating the ‘‘standard’’ surgical approaches to intersexuality, Cheryl Chase and I wrote asking for a chance to present the emerging alternative thinking on the topic. The surgeon replied (to Chase, with only a cc rather than direct address to me) that the publication was limited to members of the Department of Pediat­rics. ‘‘We do not wish our publication to become a forum for expression of ideas, be they medical or otherwise,’’ the letter read.

11. In a much earlier study, Money reported on the effects of clitorec – tomy. He located seventeen adult women who had had such surgery as adults. Twelve of these lived as women, were older than sixteen when they discussed their erotic responses, and could report on their postoperative sensations.

Three of the twelve apparently did not cooperate (‘‘no data on orgasm were disclosed,’’ p. 294). Infour cases, ‘‘the data indicated the patient to be inexpe­rienced in orgasm.’’ In five cases, the women seemed to have experienced orgasm. The language of this report makes it unclear what the ‘‘before’’ and ‘‘after’’ surgery experiences were really like: ‘‘The point of these data on or­gasm and clitorectomy is not, however, that some clitorectomized patients did not experience orgasm. On the contrary, the point is that the capacity for orgasm proved compatible with clitorectomy and surgical feminization of the genitalia in some, if not all, of these patients’’ (p. 294). This paper, giving confusing information about twelve patients, was an important citation for those who claimed that clitoral surgery did not damage sexual function (Money 1961).

12. In this chapter I discuss only evaluations of genital surgery. Some forms of intersexuality involve chromosomal and/or hormonal changes with­out affecting visible genital components. While these conditions receive med­ical attention, especially hormonal treatments, surgery is never involved be­cause there are many fewer doubts about gender assignment. In the vast majority of these cases, the children involved have mental and emotional func­tions within a normal range. This is not to say that they encounter no difficul­ties because of their differences—only that the difficulties are surmountable. For recent literature on Turner Syndrome and other gender chromosome anomalies, see: Raboch et al. 1987; McCauley and Urquiza 1988; Sylven et al. 1993; Bender et al. 1993; Cunniff et al. 1993; Toublanc et al. 1997; and Boman etal. 1998.

13. Many of these details were conveyed to me by personal communica­tion, but Chase’s story is now widely documented. See, for example, Chase 1998a.

14. Chase’s story of doctors refusing to tell her the truth even once she had reached adulthood are repeated over and over in the stories of hundreds of adult intersexuals. These may be found scattered in newsletters, media interviews, and academic books and articles, many of which I cite in this chap­ter. The sociologist Sharon Preves has interviewed forty adult intersexuals and is beginning to publish her results. In one article she recounts Flora’s experience of visiting a genetic counselor at age twenty-four, who said, ‘‘I’m obliged to tell you that certain details of your condition have not been di­vulged to you, but I cannot tell you what they are because they would upset you too much’’ (Preves 1999, p. 37).

13. Cheryl Chase to Anne Fausto-Sterling (personal correspondence, I993).

16. Chase I998,p. 200. For more on HELP, see Harmon and Smith 1998 and visit their web site: http://www. help@jaxnet. com. Their address is P. O. Box 26292, Jacksonville, FL 32226.

17. Chase uses the following quote from an AIS support group newsletter. ‘‘Our first impression of ISNA was that they were perhaps a bit too angry and militant to gain the support of the medical profession. However, we have to say that, having read [political analyses of intersexuality by ISNA, Kessler, Fausto-Sterling, and Holmes], we feel that the feminist concepts relating to the patriarchal treatment of intersexuality are extremely interesting and do make a lot of sense’’ (Chase 1998 ,p. 200).

18. The intersexual rights movement has become international. For an example of ‘‘coming out’’ in Germany, see Tolmein and Bergling 1999. For other foreign organizations, consult the ISNA web page: http:// www. isna. org.

19. For example, the surgeon John Gearhart and colleagues published a paper in which they measured nerve responses during phallic reconstruction. In their six-case study, they were able to monitor nerve responses in the phal­lus even after surgery. They wrote: ‘‘Our study clearly shows that modern techniques of genital reconstruction allow for preservation of nerve conduc­tion in the dorsal neurovascular bundle and may permit normal sexual func­tion in adulthood’’ (Gearhart et al. 1995, p. 486). (Note that their study was done on infants, and not enough time has elapsed for adult follow-up studies.) Both in a private letter and a letter to the Journal of Urology (Chase 1995), Cheryl Chase disputed the implications of their research with case studies of her own, collected from ISNA members. She cited the absence or diminish – ment of orgasm in adults whose nervous transmission was normal. Gearhart and colleagues responded by calling for long-term follow-up studies. In an­other article, Chase points out how surgical techniques are constructed as moving targets. Criticism can always be deflected by claiming that newer techniques have solved the problem. Given that it can take decades for some of the problems to emerge, this is indeed a dilemma (Chase 1998 a; Kipnis and Diamond i998).

20. Costa et al. 1997 and Velidedeoglu et al. 1997 list clitorectomy and clitoral recession as alternatives to clitoroplasty, coldly noting that ‘‘clitorec – tomy results in loss of a sensate clitoris’’ (p. 215).

21. The cancer story is not unusual. A number of adult intersexuals re­count how, during their teen years, they believed they were dying of cancer. Moreno’s story is recounted in Moreno 1998.

22. Ibid., p. 208. This sentiment is echoed by yet another ISNA activist, Morgan Holmes, a vibrant woman in her late twenties. To prevent a miscar­riage, doctors had treated her mother with progestin, a masculinizing hor­mone, and Morgan was born with an enlarged clitoris. When she was seven, doctors performed a clitoral reduction. As with Cheryl Chase, no one talked about the operation, but Holmes remembers it. Although the surgery did not render her inorgasmic, her sexual function was severely affected. Like Chase,

Holmes chose to go public. In her Master’s thesis, analyzing her own case in the context of feminist theories on the construction and meanings of gender, she writes passionately about lost possibilities:

‘‘I like to imagine, if my body had been left intact and my clitoris had grown at the same rate as the rest of my body, what would my lesbian relationships have been like? What would my current heterosexual rela­tionship be like? What if—as a woman—I could assume a penetrative role. . . with both women and men? When the doctors initially assured my father that I would grow up to have ‘normal sexual function,’ they did not mean that they could guarantee that my amputated clitoris would be sensitive or that I would be able to achieve orgasm. . . What was being guaranteed was that I would not grow up to confuse the issue of who (man) fucks whom (woman). These possibilities. . . were negated in a reasonably simple two-hour operation. All the things I might have grown up to do, all the possibilities went down the hall with my clitoris to the pathology department. Me and my remains went to the recovery room and have not yet emerged’’ (Holmes i994,p. 53).

23. Baker 1981; Elias and Annas 1988; Goodall 1991.

24. Anonymous 1994a.

25. Anonymous 1994b.

26. The fastest way to locate these organizations and the rich support and information they provide is via the Internet. The web address is http:// www. isna. org. ISNA stands for Intersex Society of North America and their mailing address is: PO Box 3070, Ann Arbor, MI 48106-3070.

27. One woman writes: ‘‘When I discovered I had AIS the pieces finally fit together. But what fell apart was my relationship with both my family and physicians. It was not learning about chromosomes or testes that caused en­during trauma, it was discovering that I had been told lies. I avoided all medi­cal care for the next 18 years. I have severe osteoporosis as a result of a lack of medical attention. This is what lies produce’’ (Groveman 1996, p. 1,829). This issue of the Canadian Medical Association Journal contains several letters with similar sentiments written by AIS women outraged that the CMAJ had awarded second prize in a medical student essay contest on medical ethics to an essay defending the ethics of lying to AIS patients. The essay was published in an earlier issue (Natarajan 1996). For many more stories see the issues of ISNA’s (see previous note) newsletter, ‘‘Hermaphrodites with Attitude,’’ the newsletter of ALIAS, an AIS support group (email aissg@aol. com), the jour­nal Chrysalis 2:5 (fall 1997/winter 1998), and Moreno 1998. For further dis­cussion of ethical decision making, see Rossiter and Diehl 1998 and Catlin I998.

28. Meyer-Bahlburg writes: ‘‘Although current surgical procedures of cli – toral recession, if done well, appear to preserve the glans clitoris and its in­nervation, we are still in need of controlled long-term follow-up studies that assess in detail the quality of clitoral functioning in adults who have undergone such procedures [clitoral surgery] in infancy or childhood’’ (Meyer-Bahlburg i998,p. i2).

29. The most recent full-length book on the clitoris is old, by medical standards—dating from 1976 (Lowry and Lowry 1976). For a roadmap of changing conventions in clitoral representations, see Moore and Clarke 1995. A rare anatomical study of the clitoris concludes that ‘‘current anatomical descriptions of female human urethral and genital anatomy are inaccurate’’ (O’Connell et al. 1998, p. i,892). For a more complete drawing of the clitoris based on these recent findings, see Williamson and Nowak 1998. Further­more, new aspects of female genital anatomy and physiology continue to be described. See Kellogg and Parra 1991 and Ingelman-Sundberg 1997.

Perhaps the best and least known text depicting female sexual anatomy is Dickinson 1949. Dickinson is remarkable because he draws the variability, often in composite drawings, which give a vibrant sense of anatomical varia­tion. Unfortunately, his drawings have been ignored in the more standard anatomical texts. For attempts to standardize clitoral size in newborns, see Tagatz et al. 1979; Callegari et al. 1987; Oberfield et al. 1989; and Phillip et al. 1996.

30. Failure to attend to genital variability, especially in children, has made it difficult to use anatomical markers to document sexual abuse in children. Here we seem to be caught in a vicious circle. Our taboos on acknowledging infantile and immature genitalia mean that we really haven’t looked at them very systematically. This means that we have no ‘‘objective’’ way to document the very thing we fear: sexual abuse of children. It also leaves us ill-equipped to have sensible conversations with intersex children and their parents about their own anatomical differences. See, for example, McCann et al. 1990; Ber – ensonetal. 1991; Berenson et al. i992;Emans 1992; and Gardner 1992.

31. See, for example, a new, computerized image reproduced on p. 288 of Moore and Clarke 1995. This image labels only the glans and some nerves. The shaft is barely visible and the crura are unlabeled. Compare this to femi­nist publications such as Our Bodies, Ourselves. Modern anatomy CD’s for popu­lar use barely mention the clitoris and show no labeled pictures of it (see, for example, Bodyworks by Softkey).

32. Newman et al. 1992b (p. 182) write: ‘‘Long term results of opera­tions that eliminate erectile tissue are yet to be systematically evaluated.’’

33. Newman et al. (1992b) mention one of nine patients with pain with orgasm; p. 8 following clitoral recession. Randolf et al. (1981) write: ‘‘A sec­ond effort at recession is worthwhile and can be satisfactorily accomplished in spite of old scar’’ (p. 884). Lattimer (1961), in his description of the recession operation, refers to ‘‘the midline scar,’’ which ends up hidden from view in the folds of the labia majora. Allen et al. (1982) cite 4/8 clitoral recessions complaining of painful erections. Nihoul-Fekete (1981) says that clitorectomy leaves painful stumps; about recession clitoroplasty, she writes: ‘‘Clitoral sen­sitivity is retained, except in cases where postoperative necrosis resulted from excessive dissection of the vascular pedicles’’ (p. 254).

34. Nihoul-Fekete et al. 1982.

35. Allenetal. i982,p. 354.

36. Newman et al. (1992b) write that patients who underwent extensive vaginal and clitoral surgery have ‘‘sexual function ranging from satisfactory to poor’’ (p. 650). Allen et al. (1982) write that they limited vaginoplasties in infants, waiting until puberty for the full operation ‘‘rather than provoke dense scarring and vaginal stenosis following an aggressive procedure at an earlier age’’ (p. 354). Nihoul-Fekete (1981) mentions as a goal keeping the vagina free of an annular scar; on vaginoplasties: ‘‘Complications arise from poor healing with resultant stenosis of the vaginal opening’’ (p. 256). Dew – hurst and Gordon (1969) write that if the fused labial folds are divided before bowel and bladder continence is achieved, ‘‘it may be followed by imperfect healing and perhaps scarring later’’ (p. 41).

37. Nihoul-Fekete 1981.

38. A debate continues over whether it is best to perform these early in childhood or wait until adolescence or adulthood. As with hypospadias sur­gery (see previous chapter), there are many varieties of surgery for vaginal reconstruction. For a brief history of them, see Schober 1998.

39. On stenosis or vaginal narrowing: 3 out of 10 moderate to severe in- troital stenosis; 5 out of 10 moderate to severe vaginal stenosis (van der Kamp etal. 1992). Operations before 1975—of 33: 8 vaginal stenosis, 3 small vagi­nal orifice, і labial adhesions; 1 penile fibrosis. Of 25 post 1975: 3 vaginal stenosis, і labial adhesions (Lobe et al. 1987); 8 out of 14 with vaginal pullthrough type vaginoplasties developed severe stenosis (Newman et al. 1992b); 8 out of 13 early vaginoplasties: stenosis caused by scarring (p. 601) (Sotiropoulos et al. 1976). Migeon says that girls with vaginal operations ‘‘have scar tissue from surgery. They experience difficult penetration. These girls suffer’’ (in Hendricks 1993). Nihoul-Fekete et al. (1982) report 10/16 clitoral recessions in which postpubertal patients reported hypersensitivity of the clitoris.

40. Bailezetal. i992,p. 681.

41. Colapinto 1997.

42. One recent evaluation of the psychological health of intersex children found: ‘‘dilating the vagina at a younger age appeared to lead to severe psycho­logical problems because it was experienced as a violation of the body integ­rity’’ (Slijper et al. i998)p. 132.

43. Colapinto 1997; Money and Lamacz 1987.

44. Bailezetal. 1992.

45. Newmanetal. 1992a, p. 651. The data from Allen et al.—thatseven of their eight patients required more than one surgery to complete clitoro – plasty—suggests that multiple operations may be the rule rather than the exception (Allen et al. 1982). Innes-Williams i98i, p. 243.

46. Additional data on multiple surgeries follow: Randolf et al. 1981: 8 out of 37 required second operations to make clitoral recession ‘‘work.’’ Lobe et al. 1987: 13 out of 58 patients required more than two operations; it seems likely from their discussion that many more of the 58 required two operations, but the data are not given. Allen et al (1982): 7 out of 8 clitoroplasties needed additional surgery. Van der Kamp et al. (1982): 8 out of io patients required two or more surgeries. Sotiropoulos et al. 1976: 8 out of 13 early vaginoplas­ties required second operations. Jones and Wilkins (1961): 40 percent of pa­tients required second surgery with vaginoplasties. Nihoul-Fekete et al. (1982) report 33 percent of their early vaginoplasties required later additional surgery. Newman et al. (1992a): 2 out of 9 required second recession opera­tions; 1/9 required second vaginoplasty. Azziz et al. (1986): 30/78 repeat (second and third times) surgeries for vaginoplasties; success ofvaginoplasties was only 34.3 percent when done on children younger than four years ofage. Innes-Williams (1981) writing about operations for hypospadias: recom­mends for intersexes two operations and says that poor technique or poor wound healing can mean further (third or more) surgery. See also Alizai et al. 1999.

The number of surgeries can rise to as high as 20. In one study of 73 hypo­spadias patients the mean number of operations was 3 . 2 , while the range ran from i to 20. See reports by Mureau, Slijperetal. 1995a, 1995b, 1995c.

47. Mulaikal et al. 1987.

48. The psychological results of hypospadias surgery may differ in differ­ent cultures. A series of studies done in the Netherlands, for example, where male circumcision is uncommon, found that dissatisfaction with genital ap­pearance resulted in part from the circumcised appearance following hypo­spadias surgery (Mureau, Slijperetal. 1995a, 1995b, 1995c; Mureau 1997; Mureau et al. 1997). For an earlier study, see Eberle et al. (1993), who found persistent cases of sexual ambiguity (seen as a bad thing) in ii percent of their hypospadias patients. Duckett found ‘‘this study most disturbing for those of us who offer an optimistic outlook for our patients with hypospadias’’ (Duck­ett i993, p. i,477).

49. Miller and Grant i997. For more on the effects of hypospadias, see Kessler i998, pp. 70—73.

50. Sandberg and Meyer-Bahlburg i995. See also Berg and Berg ^83, who report increased uncertainty about gender identity and masculinity but no increase in homosexuality among men with hypospadias.

51. Slijperetal. i998,p. 127.

52. Ibid.

53. Harmon-Smith, personal communication. For more on HELP and other support groups, consult the ISNA Web page: http://www. isna. org.

54. Harmon-Smith 1998. The full commandments are:

1) DO NOT tell the family to not name ‘‘the child’’! Doing so only isolates them, and makes them begin to see their baby as an ‘‘abnormality.’’

2) DO encourage the family to call their child by a nickname (Honey, Cutie, Sweetie, or even ‘‘little one’’) or by a non-gender-specific name.

3) DO NOT refer to the patient as ‘‘the child.’’ Doing so makes parents begin to see their child as an object, not a person.

4) DO call the patient by nickname/name chosen by the parents. It may be uncomfortable at first but will help the parents greatly. Example: ‘‘How is your little sweetie doing today?’’

5) DO NOT isolate the patient in a NICU. This scares the parents and makes them feel something is very wrong with their child. It isolates the family and prevents siblings, aunts, uncles and even grandparents from visiting and it starts a process within the family of treating the new mem­ber differently.

6) DO allow the patient to stay on a regular ward. Admit patients to the children’s wing, perhaps in a single room. Then visitors are allowed, and bonding within the family can begin.

7) DO connect the family with an information or support group. There are many available: National Organization for Rare Disorders (NORD); Parent to Parent; HELP; AIS support group; Intersex Society of North America; even March of Dimes or Easter Seals.

8) DO NOT isolate the family from information or support. Do not assume they will not understand or will be more upset if they learn about other disorders or related problems. Let the parents decide what informa­tion they want or need. Encourage them to seek out who can give them information and share experiences.

9) DO encourage the family to see a counselor or therapist. Do not only refer them to a genetic counselor; they will need emotional sup­port as well as genetic information. Refer them to a family counselor, therapist or social worker familiar with family crisis intervention/ therapy.

10) DON OT make drastic decisions in the first year. The parents need time to adjust to this individual child. They will need to understand the condition and what their specific child needs. Allow them time to get over being presented with new information and ideas. Let them understand that their child is not a condition that must conform to a set schedule but

an individual. DO NOT schedule the first surgery before the patient even

leaves the hospital. This will foster fear in the parents that this is life

threatening and they have an abnormal or damaged child.

yy. Kessler i998,p. 129.

y6. Young 1937, p. iy4. For a more recent example, see several cases of parental refusal of sex reassignment following traumatic injury to their sons’ penises in Gilbert et al. 1993.

У7. Young I937, p. iy8.

y8. Recently academics have begun to analyze the phenomenon of dis­playing extraordinary bodies as a form of public entertainment. For an entree into this literature, see Thomson 1996.

y9. Kessler 1990.

60. Young i937,p. 146.

61. Dewhurst and Gordon 1963^.77.

62. Randolfetal. i98i, p.88y.

63. Van der Kamp et al. i992.

64. Bailezetal. i992,p. 886. ‘‘A number of mothers reported their hus­bands were actually opposed to surgery,’’ and they cite one patient whose sur­gery was postponed because the family wanted the child to participate in the decision-making process (Hendricks i993). Migeon reports on others who stop taking medication that prevents virilization. Jones and Wilkins (i96i) report a patient who accepted hysterectomy and mastectomy but refused geni­tal operations, even though he had to pee sitting down. Azziz et al. (i986) report on sixteen patients requiring repeat operations to achieve goal of com­fortable intercourse, five never followed through on having them. Lubs et al. (i9y9) talk of a sixteen-year-old patient with genital abnormalities: ‘‘The family felt she should not be subject to further examination and would permit no studies to be carried out’’ (p. i, m3). Van Seters and Slob (i988) describe a case of micropenis in which the father refused surgery until the boy was old enough to decide for himself. Hurtig et al. ^983) discuss noncompliance with taking antimasculinizing drugs in two of four patients they studied. Hampson (i9yy) mentions a few parents who have refused recommendations of sex change surgery, ‘‘assured by their own thoroughgoing conviction of the boyness of their son or the girlness of their daughter’’ (p. 267). Beheshti et al. (i983 ) mention two cases in which parents refused gender reassignment.

6y. Van Seters and Slob (i988). For more on the ability of children with micropenises, raised as males to adjust to the male sexual role, see Reilly and Woodhousei989.

66. Hampson and Hampson i96i, pp. i,428—29; emphasis added.

67. Because of the small sample size, these numbers do not reach statisti­cal significance, it could be random chance that the numbers came out this way. I expand upon my prejudice to the contrary in this paragraph.

68. Actually, this moment is already here, as the agendas of ISNA and other organizations attest.

69. Kessler i998,p. 131.

70. Ibid., p. 40

71. Despite medical skepticism, ISNA’s message is making inroads. A re­cent article from a nursing journal discussed ISNA’s viewpoint and noted that ‘‘it is important to help parents focus on their infant as a whole rather than on the infant’s condition. The nurse can emphasize a child’s features that are unrelated to gender, such as ‘what beautiful eyes the baby has,’ or ‘your baby has a nose just like daddy’s’’’ (Parker i998,p. 22). See also the editorial in the same issue (Haller 1998).

72. There is a significant and fascinating literature on transsexuality. See, for instance, Hausman 1992 and 1995; Bloom 1994; Bollin 1994; and Devor


73. Major work on transgender theory and practice includes Feinberg 1996 and 1998; Ekins and King 1997; Bornstein 1994 and Atkins 1998. Also, browse issues of the journal Chrysalis: The Journal of Transgressive Gender Iden­tities.

74. Bolin I994, pp. 461,473.

75. Ibid.,p. 484.

76. Rothblatt i995,p. 115.

77. Lorber I993,p.571.

78. See also the discussion in chapter i. Also, Herdt i994a, b; Besnier 1994; Roscoe i99i and i994; Diedrich i994; and Snarch i992.

79. An ascetic sect, the Hijras are invested with the divine powers of the goddess; they dance and perform at the birth of male children and at mar­riages, and also serve the goddess at her temple (Nanda i986, ^89, and i994).

80. Without the enzyme, the body cannot transform the hormone testos­terone into a related form—dihydrotestosterone (DHT). In the embryo, DHT mediates the formation of the male external genitalia.

81. For a thorough recent review of the biology, see Quigley et al. i995 and Griffin and Wilson ^89.

82. This form of androgen insensitivity is often misdiagnosed, and irrepa­rable surgery, such as removal of the testes, is performed. When the potential difficulties go “unmanaged’’ until puberty, more satisfactory options are avail­able for an affected individual. See the discussion on p. i,9 29 of Griffin and Wilson i989, and a case discussed in Holmes et al. i992.

In Fausto-Sterling i992, I discuss the appropriation of events in the small villages of the Dominican Republic for an argument raging in the United States over whether innate biology or sex of rearing determines gender role and preference. The debate parallels the Joan/John dispute and the study of gender role acquisition in CAH girls discussed in chapter 3.

83. Herdt and Davidson 1988; Herdt i99oband 1994a, b.

84. Herdt i994,p. 429.

83. Kessler i998,p. 90.

86. Press 1998.

87. Rubin i984,p. 282.

8 8. Kennedy and Davis 1993.

89. Feinberg i996,p. 123.

90. For a complete statement of the International Bill of Gender Rights, see pp. i63—169 of Feinberg i996.

91. For a thorough and thoughtful treatment of the legal issues (which by extrapolation might apply to intersexuals), see Case i993. For a discussion of how legal decisions construct the heterosexual and homosexual subject, see Halley i99i, i993, and i994.

92. In Norton i996,pp. i87—88.

93. As sex reassignment surgery became more common in the i93os, doctors worried about their personal liability. Even though physicians ob­tained parental approval, could a child—upon reaching the age of majority— sue the surgeon ‘‘for charges ranging from malpractice to assault and battery or even mayhem’’? Despite ‘‘this disagreeable quirk in the law,’’ the worried physician writing this passage felt he ought not shrink from ‘‘handling these unfortunate children… in whatever way seems. . . to be most suitable and humane’’ (Gross and Meeker i933,p. 32i).

In i937, Dr. E. C. Hamblen, reiterating the fear of lawsuit, sought the aid of a law clinic at Duke University. One suggested solution, which never saw the light of day, was to set up state boards or commissions ‘‘on sex assignment or reassignment, comparable to boards of eugenics which authorize steriliza­tion.’’ Hamblen hoped such action could protect a physician whose position he feared ‘‘might be precarious, indeed, if legal action subsequently resulted in a jury trial’’ (Hamblen i937, p. i,24o). After this early flurry of self­concern, the medical literature falls silent on the question of the patient’s right to sue. Perhaps doctors have relied both on their near certainty that current medical approaches to intersexuality are both morally and medically correct and on the realization that the vast majority of their patients would never choose to go public about such intimate matters. In the post—Lorena Bobbit era, however, it seems only a matter oftime until some medical profes­sional confronts the civil claims of a genitally altered intersexual.

94. O’Donovan i983. For an up-to-date review of the legal status of the intersexual, see Greenberg i999.

93. O’Donovan i983, p. i3; Ormrod i992.

96. Edwards i939,p. ii8.

97. Halley i99i.

98. Ten Berge i96o, p. ii8.

99. See de la Chapelle 1986; Ferguson-Smith et al. 1992; Holden 1992; Kolata 1992; Serrat and Garcia de Herreros 1993; Unsigned 1993.

100. I never would have guessed, when I first drafted this chapter in 1993, that in 1998 homosexual marriages would be on the ballots in two states. Although it lost in both cases, clearly the issue is now open to discussion. I believe it is a matter of time before the debate will be joined again, with different results.

101. Rhode Island repealed its antisodomy law in 1998, the same year that a similar law was found unconstitutional in the state of Georgia.

102. Reilly and Woodhouse 1989^. 371; see also Woodhouse 1994.

Chapter 2: "That Sexe Which Prevaileth’’

1. Quoted in Epstein 1990. Epstein and Janet Golden found the Suydam story and made it available to other scholars.

2. A fact-checker for The Sciences called Suydam’s town in Connecticut to verify the story. The town official asked to keep the family name quiet, appar­ently because relatives still live in the area and the story still bothers some local residents.

3. Halley 1991.

4. Kolata 1998a.

3. I owe this phrase to Epstein 1990.

6. Young 1937 has a full and highly readable review of hermaphrodites from antiquity to the present.

7 . Ibid.

8. This discussion comes from Epstein 1990; Epstein 1991; Jones and Stallybrass 1991; Cadden 1993; and Park 1990.

9. My account of sex determination and the meanings of gender in the Middle Ages comes from Cadden 1993.

10. In one variation of this idea the uterus had five chambers, with the middle one, again, producing the hermaphrodite.

11. Cadden i993,p.2i3.

12. Ibid., p. 214.

13. Jones and Stallybrass 1991.

14. Ibid.; Daston and Park 1983.

13. Matthews 1939, pp. 247—48. I am indebted to a colleague, Professor Pepe Amor y Vasquez, for bringing this incident to my attention.

16. Quoted in Jones and Stallybrass i99i, p. 103.

17. Quoted in Ibid., p. 90.

18. Several historians note that concerns about homosexuality enhanced the felt need for social regulation of hermaphrodites. In fact, homosexuality itself was sometimes represented as a form of hermaphroditism. Thus inter­sexuality, although relatively rare, fell (and falls) into a broader category of sexual variation of concern to physicians as well as religious and legal authori­ties. See discussions in Epstein 1990; Park 1990; Epstein 1991; and Dreger 1998a, b.

19. Coleman 1971 andNyhart 1993.

20. Foucault 1970; Porter 1986; andPoovey 1993. For more on the social origins of statistics, see chapter 3 of this book.

21. Daston 1992.

22. Quoted in Dreger 1988b, p. 33.

23. On earlier treatments of ‘‘monstrous births,’’ see Daston and Parks 1998; for a modern scientist’s evaluation of St.-Hilaire, see Morrin 1996.

24. These comments are inspired by Thomson 1996 and Dreger 1998b. For a discussion of how modern reproductive and genetic technology has pushed us even further in the direction of eliminating wondrous bodies, see Hubbard i990.

23. For a discussion of the social function of classification and of how so­cial ideology produces particular systems of classification, see Schiebinger 1993b; and Dreger 1998b.

26. Dreger 1998b.

27. Quoted in Ibid., p. 143.

28. Dreger 1998b, p. 146.

29. The microscope was not new, although it underwent continued im­provement in the nineteenth century. Just as important was the development of techniques to slice tissues into very thin strips and to stain the tissue to make them distinct under microscopic examination (Nyhart 1993).

30. Dreger 1998b, p. 130.

31. For current estimates using this ‘‘modern’’ system, see Blackless et al. 2000.

32. For well-documented examples of the uses of the science of physical difference, see Russett 1989.

33. Sterling 1991.

34. Newman 1983.

33. Clarke 1873; Howe 1874; for the century-long struggle of women to enter science themselves, see Rossiter 1982 and 1993.

36. Historian Dreger based her book on over 300 cases in the medical literature in Britain and France.

37. Quoted in Dreger 1998b, pp. 161, 1.

38. Newsom 1994.

39. The man suffered from hypospadias, a failure of the urethra to run to the tip of the penis. Men with hypospadias have difficulties with urination.

40. Quoted in Hausman i993,p. 80.

41. Practicing hermaphrodites differ from bisexuals. Bisexuals are com­pletely male or completely female but not completely heterosexual. A practic­ing hermaphrodite, as Young used the term, meant a person who used his male parts to take the male role in sex with a woman and her female parts to take the female role in sex with a man.

42. i937, pp-140, 142.

43. Ibid.,p. i39.

44. Dicks and Childers 1934, pp.308, 310.

43. The latest medical writings speculate about the future use of gene therapy in utero; in theory, such treatments could prevent many of the more common forms of intersexuality. See Donahoe et al. 1991.

46. Evidence for this lack of self-reflection on the part of the medical community may be found in Kessler 1990.

Chapter 1: Dueling Dualisms

1. Hanley 1983.

2. My description of these events is based on the following reports: de la Chapelle 1986; Simpson 1986; Carlson 1991; Anderson 1992; Grady 1992; Le Fanu 1992; Vines 1992; Wavell and Alderson 1992.

3. Quoted in Carlson 1991 p. 27.

4. Ibid.

The technical name for Patino’s condition is Androgen Insensitivity Syn­drome. It is one of a number of conditions that leads to bodies having mixtures of male and female parts. Today we call such bodies intersexes.

3. Quoted in Vines i99 2,p. 41.

6. Ibid., p. 42.

7. The contradiction plagued women’s athletics at all levels. See, for ex­ample, Verbrugge і997.

8. The Olympics specifically, and women’s sport in general, have built all sorts of gender difference into the heart of its practice. Barring women from certain events or having different rules for the men’s and women’s games pro­vide obvious examples. For a detailed discussion of gender and sport, see Cahn 1994. For other examples of how gender itself contributes to the con­struction of different male and female bodies in sports, see Lorber 1993 and Zita 1992.

9. Money and Ehrhardt define ‘‘gender role’’ as ‘‘everything that a person says and does to indicate to others or to the self the degree that one is either male, or female, or ambivalent.’’

They define ‘‘gender identity’’ as ‘‘the sameness, unity, and persistence of one’s individuality as male, female, or ambivalent. . . . Gender identity is the private experience of gender role, and gender role is the public experience of gender identity’’ (Money and Ehrhardt 1972^.4. For a discussion of Money’s separation of‘‘sex’’ from ‘‘gender,’’ see Hausman 1993.

Money and Ehrhardt distinguish between chromosomal sex, fetal gonadal sex, fetal hormonal sex, genital dimorphism, brain dimorphism, the response of adults to the infant’s gender, body image, juvenile gender identity, pubertal hormonal sex, pubertal eroticism, pubertal morphology, and adult gender

identity. All of these factors, they believe, work together to define a person’s adult gender identity.

10. See, for example, Rubin 1975. Rubin also questions the biological basis of homosexuality and heterosexuality. Note that feminist definitions of gender applied to institutions as well as personal or psychological differences.

11. The sex/gender dichotomy often became a synonym for debates about nature versus nurture, or mind versus body. For a discussion of how to use debated dichotomies as an aid to understanding the intertwining of social and scientific belief systems see, Figlio 1976.

12. Many scientists and their popularizers claim that men are more com­petitive, more aggressive or assertive, are more sexual, more prone to infi­delity and more. See, for example Pool 1994 and Wright 1994. For a critique of such claims, see Fausto-Sterling 1992, 1997 a, b.

13. For feminists this debate is very problematic because it pits the au­thority of science, especially biology, against the authority of social science— and in any battle of this sort, social science is bound to lose. Science in our culture brings with it all the trappings of special access to the truth: the claim of objectivity.

14. Spelman labeled feminist fear of the body‘‘somatophobia.’’ See, Spel – man 1988. Recently a colleague commented to me that I seem scared of bio­logical theories of behavior. This puzzled him because at the same time he could see that I am devoted to biological studies as one way of gaining interest­ing and useful information about the world. He was right. Like many femi­nists, I have good reason to be scared of bringing biology into the picture. It is not only my knowledge of centuries of arguments in which the body has been used to justify power inequities. I have also encountered such arguments at a personal level throughout my life. In grade school, a teacher told me that women could be nurses but not doctors (after I had announced my intention to become the latter). When, as a young Assistant Professor, I joined the fac­ulty at Brown, a Full Professor in the History Department told me kindly, but with great authority, that history showed that there had never been any women geniuses in either the sciences or the field of letters. We were, it seemed, born to be mediocre. To cap it off, when I returned from scientific meetings, emotionally shaken by my inability to break into the all-male conclaves, where the true scientific exchanges occurred (chatting at the socials and at meals), I read that ‘‘men in groups’’ was a natural outcome of male bonding that had evolved from prehistoric hunting behaviors. Nothing, really, was to be done about it.

I now understand that I experienced the political power of science. This ‘‘power is exercised less visibly, less conspicuously (than overt state or institu­tional power), and not on but through the dominant institutional structures, priorities, practices and languages of the sciences’’ (Harding 1992, p. 567, emphasis in the original). Thus it is no wonder that I and other feminists were (and are) suspicious of grounding the development of the psyche in some bodily essence. We responded to what came to be called ‘‘essentialism.’’ A century ago and today, feminist essentialists argue that women are naturally different—and that such difference forms the basis for either social equality or superiority. For entree into the extensive feminist debates about essen­tialism, seeJ. R. Martin 1994 and Bohan 1997.

15. For a discussion of this recalcitrance in terms of gender schema in adulthood, see Valian 1998a, 1998b.

16. See chapters 1—4 herein; also Feinberg 1996; Kessler and McKenna 1978; Haraway 1989, 1997; Hausman 1995; Rothblatt 1995; Burke 1996; and Dreger 1998b.

One recent sociological account of problems of embodiment considers that ‘‘‘the cutting edge’ of contemporary social theorising around the body may in fact be located within feminism itself’’ (Williams and Bendelow 1998, p. i3°).

17. Moore i994,pp. 2—3.

18. My social activism has included participation in organizations work­ing for civil rights for all people, regardless of race, gender, or sexual orienta­tion. I have also worked on traditionally feminist issues such as shelters for battered women, reproductive rights, and equal access for women in the academy.

19. I am actually willing to broaden this claim to include all scientific knowledge, but in this book I make the argument only for biology—the scien­tific endeavor I best understand. For extended arguments on the topic, see Latour 1987 and Shapin 1994.

20. Some would point to the fact that people express very unpopular sex­ualities despite strong contrary social pressure, even the threat of bodily harm. Clearly, they say, nothing in the environment encouraged the develop­ment of such behavior, but the body will out. Others argue that there must be some prenatally determined disposition that, in interaction with unknown environmental factors, leads to a strongly held, often immutable adult sexual­ity. Members of this latter group, probably the majority ofLoveweb members, call themselves interactionists. But their version of interactionism (meaning that the body and the environment interact to produce behavior patterns) calls for a large dose of body and only a little sprinkling of environment. ‘‘The real issue,’’ one of the staunchest and most articulate interactionists writes, ‘‘is how the body generates behavior’’ (‘‘Lovenet’’ discussion).

2i. Scholarship is not the sole agent of change; it combines with other agents, including traditional means such as voting and forming consumer preference blocks.

22. Haraway 1997, p. 217. See also Foucault 1970; Gould 1981; Schie – binger 1993 a, b.

23. See, for example, Stocking 1987, 1988; Russett 1989 ; Poovey 1995.

24. The historian Lorraine Daston notes that the idea of nature or the natural invoked in debates about the body changed between the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries: ‘‘Early modern nature was incapable of ‘hard facts.’

. . . Modern nature abounded in bitter revelations about the illusions of ethics and social reform, for nature was ruthlessly amoral’’ (Daston i99 2,p. 222).

25. During this time, Foucault maintains, the change from Feudalism to Capitalism required a new concept of the body. Feudal lords applied their power directly. Peasants and serfs obeyed because God and their sovereign told them to (except, of course, when they revolted, as they did from time to time). The punishment for disobedience was, to the modern eye, violent and brutal: drawing and quartering. For a stunning description of this brutality, see the opening chapters of Foucault 1979.

26. Foucault i978,p. 141.

27. These efforts created ‘‘an anatomo-politics of the human body’’ (Foucault 1978 p. 139; emphasis in the original).

28. Because some of the arguments about sex and gender represent the old nature/nurture arguments in modern drag, their resolution (or, as I argue for, their dissolution) is relevant to debates about racial difference. For a dis­cussion of race in terms of modern biological knowledge, see Marks 1994.

29. Foucault 1978 ,p. 139; emphasis in the original.

30. Ibid. In chapter 5 I discuss how the rise of statistics enables twentieth – century scientists to make claims about sex differences in the human brain.

31. Sawicki 1991, p. 67; see also McNay 1993 for specific discussions of Foucault in a feminist context.

32. Foucault i98o, p. 107.

33. Quoted in Moore and Clarke i995,p. 271.

34. Illustrating the anatomo-politics of the human body.

35. Exemplifying the biopolitics of the population.

36. Harding 1992, 1995; Haraway 1997; Longino 1990; Rose 1994; Nel­son and Nelson i996.

37. See also Strock 1998.

38 . Furthermore, the theories derived from such research deeply affect how people live their lives. Recently, for example, a movement to turn homo­sexuals into ‘‘straight’’ people has garnered a lot of publicity. It matters a lot to individual homosexuals if they and others think they can change or if they believe their homosexual desire is permanent and unchangeable (Leland and Miller 1998; Duberman 1991).

For further discussion on this point, see Zita 1992.

For a detailed analysis of bisexuality, see Garber 1995 and Epstein 1991.

The sociologist Bruno Latour argues that once a scientific finding becomes so thoroughly accepted that we dignify it by calling it a fact, placing it without question in textbooks and scientific dictionaries, it moves out of view, behind

a veil that he refers to as a blackbox (Latour 1987). Place a fact in a Latourian black box and people stop looking at it. Nobody asks whether, at the time of its origin, it functioned ideologically in the social or political arena or whether it embodied particular cultural practices or ways of seeing the world.

39. Kinsey etal., 1948; Kinsey et al., 1933.

Kinsey’s Eight Categories. o: ‘‘all psychologic responses and all overt sexual activities directed towards persons of the opposite sex.’’ 1: ‘‘psychosexual responses and/or overt experience are almost entirely toward individuals of the opposite sex.’’ 2: ‘‘the preponderance of their psychosexual responses and/or overt experiences are heterosexual, although they respond rather differently to homosexual stimuli.’’ 3: Individuals who ‘‘stand midway on the heterosexual-homosexual scale.’’ 4: Individuals whose ‘‘psychologic re­sponses are more often directed toward other individuals of their own sex.’’ 3: ‘‘almost entirely homosexual in their psychologic responses and/or their overt activities.’’ 6: ‘‘exclusively homosexual.’’ X: ‘‘do not respond erotically to either heterosexual or homosexual stimuli and do not have overt physical contacts’’ (Kinseyetal. i933,pp. 471—72).

40. When they looked at accumulated homosexual encounters, from ado­lescence through age forty, they reported that homosexual responses had reached 28 percent for women and almost 30 percent for men. When they asked about interactions that led to orgasm, the numbers were still high: 13 percent for women and 37 percent for men (ibid., p. 471). Kinsey did not endorse the notion of homosexuality as a natural category. His system, em­phatically, did not carve nature at the joints.

4i. He did, of course, study these other aspects of human sexual exis­tence, but they were not explicitly part of the 0—6 scale and Kinsey’s com­plexity and subtlety of analysis were often lost in subsequent discussions. As recently as 1989, some researchers complained about the adequacy of the Kinsey scale and proposed more complex grid-like models. One created a grid with seven variables down (sexual attraction, sexual behavior, sexual fan­tasies, emotional preference, social preference, self-identification, hetero/ homo lifestyle) and a time scale (past, present, future) across (Klein 1990).

42. See, for example, Bailey et al. 1993; Whitam et al. 1993; Hamer et al. 1993; and Pattatucci and Hamer 1993.

From the very beginning Kinsey fell under both political and scientific attack. He lost his funding after certain members of Congress became out­raged. Scientists, especially statisticians, attacked his methodology. Kinsey had obtained data from an impressively large number of men and women, but he had collected his overwhelmingly middle class, white, Midwestern popula­tion using what sociologists now call a snowball sample. Starting with stu­dents as one source, he had branched out to their friends and family, their friends’ friends and family, and so on. As word of the study spread (for exam­ple, through his public speaking engagements), he picked up more people, some volunteering after hearing him speak. Although he actively sought out people from different environments, there seems little doubt that he selected a segment of the population who was especially willing, and in some cases even eager, to talk about sex. Might this have accounted for the high frequen­cies of homosexual encounters in his reports?

On the positive side, Kinsey and a small number ofhighly trained co-work­ers (in a fashion true to the racism and sexism of the period, Kinsey’s inter­viewers had to be male, white, and WASP) conducted all of the interviews. Rather than use preset questionnaires, they followed a memorized procedure and had the leeway to pursue lines of questioning in order to be sure they had gotten complete answers. More modern survey approaches have exchanged this more flexible, but also more idiosyncratic, interview process for a level of standardization that permits using less highly trained interview personnel. It is very hard to know whether important data are lost as a result. I owe this point to James Weinrich (personal communication) (Brecher and Brecher 1986; Irvine 1990a, b).

43. This is a necessary feature of doing molecular linkage studies (for any multifactorial trait) because the power of resolution is so low. (See Larder and Scherk 1994.) If the trait is not narrowed enormously, it is impossible to find statistically significant association. But narrowing the trait makes it inappro­priate to generalize a finding to the general population (Pattatucci 1998).

44. For the grid model, see Klein 1990. For one version of an orthogonal model, see Weinrich 1987.

43. Chung and Katayama 1996.

In the most important recent survey of human sexual practices in the United States, Edward O. Laumann, John H. Gagnon, Robert T. Michael, and Stuart Michaels categorized their results along three axes: same-sex sexual behavior, desire, and identity (Laumann, Gagnow, etal. 1994). For example, Laumann and colleagues found that 39 percent of women with at least some homosexual interest expressed same-sex desire but no other behaviors, and 13 percent reported that they had same-sex desire, behaviors, and self-identity as lesbian. Thirteen percent reported same-sex behaviors (sexual interac­tions) but without strong homosexual desire and without identifying as les­bian. Although the precise distributions for men differed, the same general conclusion held. There is a ‘‘high degree of variability in the way that differing elements of homosexuality are distributed in the population. This variability relates to the way that homosexuality is organized as a set of behaviors and practices and experience subjectively, and it raises provocative questions about the definition of homosexuality’ (Laumann Gagnow et al. i994,p. 300). The sample size for these studies was 3,432, age range 18 to 39. There were discrepancies in the data, which the authors note and discuss. Among them: 22 percent of women report being forced into some sexual act, but only 3 percent of men say they have force women into sex. Men say they have more sex partners than women do, so who are the men having all that sex with? See Cotton 1994; see also Reiss 1993.

46. I often hear from my biology colleagues that our compatriots in other fields have an easier time than we because scientific knowledge changes con­tinuously while other fields are static. Hence we need constantly to revise our courses, while a historian or Shakespearean scholar can legitimately give the same old lecture, year after year. In fact, nothing could be further from the truth. The field of literature changes all the time as new theories of analysis and new philosophies of language become part of the academic’s tools. And an English professor who does not regularly update her lectures or develop new courses to reflect the changing field receives just as much criticism as the biochemistry professor who reads his lectures directly from the textbook. My colleagues’ attitudes represent an attempt at boundary maintenance—a method of trying to make scientific work special. The entire thrust of current analyses of science, however, suggests that it is not so different after all. For an overview of work in the social studies of science, see Hess 1997.

47. Halperin 1990, pp. 28—29.

48. Scott i993,p. 408.

49. Duden 1991 ,pp. v, vi.

3°. Katz i993.

31. Trumbach 1991a.

32. McIntosh 1968.

33. In philosophy the question of how to categorize human sexuality is usually discussed in terms of ‘‘natural kinds.’’ The philosopher John Dupre writes more generally about the difficulties of biological classification of any sort: ‘‘There is no God-given, unique way to classify the innumerable and diverse products of the evolutionary process. There are many plausible and defensible ways of doing so, and the best way of doing so will depend on both the purposes of the classification and the peculiarities of the organisms in question’’ (Dupre 1993, p. 37). For other discussions of natural kinds with regard to classifying human sexuality, see Stein i999 and Hacking i992 and


Even now many of us spend idle moments speculating about whether So and so is ‘‘really’’ straight or ‘‘really’’ a queer just as we ‘‘might question whether a certain pain indicated cancer’’ (McIntosh 1968 ,p. 182).

34. Only through time travel, Latour argues, can one understand the so­cial construction ofa particular scientific fact. Interested parties must journey back to a period just before the fact in question appeared on Earth and follow along as citizens of an earlier time participated in its ‘‘discovery,’’ argued about its reality, and finally agreed to place it in the dark box of facticity (see note 38). Thus we cannot understand modern scientific formulations of the structure of human sexuality without traveling back in time to their point of origin.

33. There is now a rich and growing literature on the history of sexuality. For an overview of ideas about masculinity and femininity, see Foucault 1990 and Laqueur 1990. For studies of sexuality in Rome and in early Chris­tendom, see Boswell 1990 and Brooten 1996. For up-to-date scholarship on the Middle Ages and the Renaissance, see Trumbach 1998 and 1987; Bray 1982; Huussen 1987; and Rey 1987). For changing expressions of sexuality in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, see Park 1990; Jones and Stallybrass 1991; Trumbach 1991a, b; Faderman 1982; and Vicinus 1989. For additional historical accounts, see Boswell 1993; Bray 1982; Bullough and Brundage 1996; Cadden 1993; Culianu 1991; Dubois and Gordon 1983; Gallagher and Laqueur 1987; Groneman 1994; Jordanova 1980 and 1989; Kinsman 1987; Laqueur 1992; andMort 1987. For looks at how ideas about health and disease have been linked to our definitions ofsex, gender, and morality, see Moscucci 1990; Murray 1991; Padgug 1979; Payer 1993; Porter and Mikulas 1994; Porter and Hall 1993; Rosario 1997; Smart 1992; and Trumbach 1987 and :989.

36. Katz 1976 and Faderman 1982.

37. Halwani 1998 provides one example of the ongoing nature of this debate.

38. Sometimes touted as the seat of modern democracy, Athens was, in fact, ruled by a small group of elite male citizens. Others—slaves, women, foreigners, and children—had subordinate status. This political structure provided the scaffolding for sex and gender. There were, for example, no specific prohibitions against men having sex with one another. What really mattered was what kind of sex one had. A citizen could have sex with a boy or a male slave so long as he actively penetrated and the other passively received. This sort of sex did not violate the political structure or bring into question the masculinity of the active partner. On the other hand, penetrative sex be­tween citizens of equal status ‘‘was virtually inconceivable’’ (Halperin 1990, p. 31). The sex act declared one’s social and political standing. ‘‘Sex between social superior and social inferior was a miniature drama of polarization which served to measure and define the social distance between them’’ (idem, p. 32). Position mattered. In the pattern that emerges from analyzing the variety of sex acts depicted in drawings on Greek vases, male citizens always pene­trated women or male slaves from the rear. (No, the missionary position is neither universal nor ‘‘natural’’!) But in the much-touted relationships be­tween older men and their younger male citizen proteges, sex (without pene­tration) happened face to face (Keller 1983). Weinrich 1987 distinguishes among three forms of homosexuality identified either in different cultures or in previous historical eras: inversion homosexuality, age-structured homo­sexuality, and role-playing homosexuality. See alsoHerdt i99oaand 1994a, b.

59. Katz 1990 and 1995. Other authors (Kinsman 1987) note the written use of the word in 1869 by the Hungarian K. M. Benkert. Something must have been in the air.

60. Hansen 1992 and 1989. French, Italian, and American accounts fol­lowed soon after.

61. Ellis 1913. A number of historians point out that the medical profes­sion’s involvement in defining types of human sexuality was only part of the story. For a variety of more nuanced accounts see Krafft-Ebing 1892; Chauncey 1985 and 1994; Hansen 1989 and 1992; D’Emilio 1983 and 1993; D’Emilio and Freedman 1988; and Minton 1996. Duggan writes: ‘‘turn-of – the-century sexologists, far from creating or producing new lesbian identi­ties, drew their ‘cases’ from women’s own stories and newspaper retellings of them as well as from French fiction and pornography as ‘empirical’ bases for their theories’’ (Duggan i993,p. 809).

62 . In earlier periods male and female sexuality was understood to lie along a continuum from hot to cold (Laqueur 1990).

63. The true invert of this period cross-dressed and, when possible, took up appropriately masculine work. Ellis, writing in 1928, described the in­verted lesbian: ‘‘The brusque, energetic movements, the attitude of the arms, the direct speech, . . . the masculine straightforwardness and sense of honor. . . will all suggest the underlying psychic abnormality to a keen observer. . . there frequently a pronounced taste for smoking cigarettes. . . but also a decided tolerance for cigars. There is also a dislike and sometimes incapacity for needlework and other domestic occupations, while there is often some capacity for athletics.’’ Ellis 1928, p. 250. No single book made this point more clearly while affecting the lives of thousands of lesbians well into the 1970s than Hall 1928. See also chapter 8 of Silverman 1992.

64. Although the notion of the invert strongly influenced turn-of-the cen­tury sex experts (who became known as sexologists), the idea was unstable, changing as strict sex roles weakened and men and women began more often to appear in the same public spaces. Ellis and then Freud began to note that in men one might separate masculine behaviors and roles from same-sex desire. Thus object choice (or what we today often call sexual preference) grew in importance as a category for classifying sexuality. A similar division came more slowly to women, perhaps not fully emerging until the feminist revolu­tion of the 1970s smashed rigid sex roles into bits. For more on the history of sexology, see Birken 1988; Irvine i990a, b; Bullough 1994; Robinson 1976; and Milletti 1994.

For a fascinating description of this transformation from the point of view oflesbians themselves, see Kennedy and Davis 1993.

65. Although male-male sex did not bother them, the Greeks recognized the existence of molles, unmasculine men who wanted to be penetrated, and tribades, women who, although engaging in sex with men, preferred other women. They considered both groups mentally troubled. But the abnormality lay not in same-sex desire. Rather, what worried Greek physicians was that molles and tribades were gender deviants. They either mysteriously wished to surrender male power by becoming a passive sex partner, or, intolerably, they tried, by becoming the active partner, to assume male political status. Both the molle and the tribade differed from normal folk by having too much of a good thing. They were understood to be oversexed. (Molles apparently devel­oped the desire to be penetrated because taking the active role did not offer sufficient sexual release.) David Halperin writes: ‘‘these gender-deviants de­sire sexual pleasure just as most people do, but they have such strong and intense desires that they are driven to devise some unusual and disreputable. . . means of gratifying them’’ (Halperin i99o, p. 23).

66. The historian Bert Hansen writes: ‘‘A tentative sense ofidentity facili­tated further interaction. . . which then facilitated the formation of a homo­sexual identity for more individuals’’ (Hansen i992,p. 109).

67. Ibid., p. 125. See also Minton 1996.

The historian George Chauncey provides impressive evidence for a large and fairly open and accepted social world for urban gay men during the first third of this century. He argues that, in contrast to that period, gay culture encountered a great period of repression from the 1930s through the 1950s (Chauncey 1994). Allan Berube (1990) documents the participation of gay men and women in World War II. He suggests that the modern gay movement forms one of the ultimate legacies of their struggles in the armed services. For a fascinating oral history of the postwar gay rights movement, see Marcus

1992. Additional essays on the postwar period maybe found in Escoffier et al. 1995. For discussions of historiographical problems in writing histories of sexuality, see Weeks 1981a, b and Duggan 1990.

68. Its English language entree occurred in 1889 with the English transla­tion of Krafft-Ebing’s Psychopathia Sexualis.

69. Katz 1990 p. 16.

Today the concept of heterosexual appears to us as inexorably natural. But the first 30 years of the twentieth century had passed before it solidified on American shores. In 1901 neither the terms heterosexual nor homosexual ap­peared in the Oxford English Dictionary. During the teens and 20s novelists, playwrights, and sex educators fought censorship and public disapproval to make a public space for the erotic heterosexual. Only in 1939 did the word heterosexual finally emerge from the medical demi-monde to achieve that honor of all honors, publication in the New York Times. From there to Broadway, as a lyric in the musical Pal Joey, took another decade.

Katz 1990. The full Pal Joey lyric is quoted on p. 20; for a more detailed account of the history of the modern concept of heterosexuality, see Katz 1995. In 1929 the sex educator Mary Ware Dennett was convicted of sending obscene material—a sex education pamphlet for children—through the mails. Her criminal writings declared the joys of sexual passion (of course, within the confines of love and marriage). The author Margaret Jackson ar­gues that the development of the field of sexology undermined feminists of the period ‘‘by declaring that those aspects of male sexuality and heterosexu­ality were in fact natural, and by constructing a ‘scientific’ model of sexuality on that basis’’ (Jackson 1987^. 55). Forfurther discussion of feminism, sex­ology, and sexuality in this period, see Jeffreys 1985.

70. Nye 1998, p. 4.

71. Boswell i99o, pp. 22, 26.

72. Nye 1998, p. 4.

73. As, for example, James Weinrich suggests (Weinrich 1987).

74. Not all anthropologists agree on the exact number of patterns; some cite as many as six patterns. As with many of the ideas discussed in this chap­ter, the academy is still in flux as new data pour in and new approaches to analyzing old data proliferate.

75. McIntosh 1968.

76. In the years since McIntosh’s essay, books’ worth of scholarship on the topic have been published. See, for example, Dynes and Donaldson 1992a, 1992b, and Murray 1992.

77. For reviews of cross-cultural studies of human sexuality, see Davis and Whitten 1987; Weston 1993; and Morris 1995.

78. See, for example, how Weinrich uses the notion of human universals to infer the biological basis of behavioral traits (Weinrich 1987).

79. Vancei99i, p.878.

80. Note that such a definition permits Boswell to be a mild social con­structionist while still believing that homosexual desire is inborn, transhistor­ical, and cross-cultural. Indeed, the phrase social construction does not refer to a unified body of thought. The meaning of the phrase has changed with time; more modern ‘‘constructionists’’ are generally more sophisticated than early ones. For a detailed discussion of the different forms of constructionism and essentialism, see Halley 1994.

81. Vance 1991, p. 878. Halperin certainly falls into this more radical constructionist category.

82. Herdt 1990a, p. 222.

83. A careful reading of Herdt’s account of Melanesian societies reveals three underlying (Western) assumptions: that homosexuality is a lifelong practice, that it is an ‘‘identity,’’ and that these definitions of homosexuality may be found worldwide.

84. Elliston 1995, p. 849.

Ibid., p. 852 .

Anthropologists have similar disagreements about the implications of Na­tive American practices that scholars refer to as ‘‘Berdache’’—a variety of practices involving culturally sanctioned cross-gender roles and behaviors. Some argue that the existence of Berdache proves that the assumption of cross-gender roles and behaviors is a universal expression of inborn sexuality, but others find this to be an ahistorical, simplistic view of practices that have varied greatly across North American cultures and history. Carolyn Epple, who has been studying contemporary Navajo nadleehi (the Navajo word for ‘‘Berdache’’) observes, for instance, that Navajo definitions of nadleehi vary from case to case. Such variation makes sense because the Navajo worldview she studies ‘‘seems to place more emphasis on situation-based definitions than on fixed categories.’’ Epple is very careful to qualify phrases such as the ‘‘Na­vajo Worldview’’ by indicating that she is talking about the one her informants discuss. There is no singular worldview, because it changes historically and regionally, and is better understood as a complex of overlapping belief sys­tems. This contrasts with Euro-American assumptions that homosexuality is a fixed or natural kind.

(For discussions of natural kinds, see Dupre 1993; Koertge 1990; and Hacking 1992 and 1993.) Moreover, Epple points out, the Navajos don’tnec – essarily regard nadleehi as gender transgression. The Navajo Epple studies con­ceptualize everyone as both male and female. Thus they would not describe a man with a woman’s mannerisms as feminine. ‘‘Given that both male and female are ever-present,’’ Epple observes, ‘‘a gender valuation of ‘masculine’ versus ‘feminine’ will generally reflect the perspective of the observer, and not some absolute value’’ (Epple 1998, p. 32). For additional critiques of the ‘‘Berdache’’ concept, see Jacobs etal. 1997.

83. See, for example, Goldberg 1973 and Wilson 1978.

86. Ortner 1996.

87. Although they didn’t invent the concept, Kessler and McKenna use the idea to excellent effect in their analysis of cross-cultural studies of gender systems (Kessler and McKenna 1978).

88. Ortner i996,p. 146.

89. Ortner writes: ‘‘Hegemonies are powerful, and our first job is to un­derstand how they work. But hegemonies are not eternal. There will always be (for both better and worse) arenas of power and authority that lie outside the hegemony and that may serve as both images of and points of leverage for alternative arrangements’’ (ibid., p. 172).

90. Oyewumi i998,p. 1033. See also Oyewumi 1997.

91. Oyewumi i998,p. 1061.

92. Oyewumi 1997, p. xv. Oyewumi notes that gender divisions are espe­cially visible in African state institutions, which were derived originally from colonial formations—that is, they represent the transformed impositions of colonialism, including the gender beliefs of the colonizers.

93. Stein 1998. For a full treatment of Stein’s ideas, see Stein 1999.

Much of contemporary biological, psychological, and anthropological re­search uses homosexuality as real or natural categories. Some examples in­clude Whitam et al. 1993; Bailey and Pillard 1991; Bailey et al. 1993; and Buhrich et al. 1991.

94. One other feminist biologist, Lynda Birke, has moved in the same direction, but because her book is forthcoming, and I have only read an early outline and the advanced publicity, I cannot cite it more specifically (Birke I999).

93. Halperin 1993, p. 416.

96. Plumwood I993,p. 43.

Plumwood also argues that dualisms ‘‘result from a certain kind of denied dependency on a subordinated other.’’ The denial, combined with a relation­ship of domination and subordination, shape the identity of each side of the dualism’’ (ibid., p. 41). Bruno Latour uses a different framework to make a similar point—that nature and culture have been artificially divided in order to create modern scientific practice. See Latour 1993.

97. Wilson I998, p. 33.

98 . In her words, she ‘‘wants to ask how and why ‘materiality’ has become a sign of irreducibility, that is, how is it that the materiality of sex is under­stood as that which only bears cultural constructions and, therefore, cannot be a construction’’ (Butler I993,p. 28).

99. Ibid., p. 29.

100. Ibid., p. 31.

ioi. For other examples of sedimented meanings in science, see Schie – binger 1993a, on Linnaeus’s choice of the breast as the word to designate the class mammalia, and Jordanova 1989 on Durkheim’s account of women in his 1897 book Suicide.

102. Butler I993,p. 66.

103. Hausman I993,p. 69.

104. Grosz I994,p. 33.

103. Singh 1942; Gesell and Singh 1941; Candland 1993; andMalson and Itard 1972.

106. ‘‘The body image cannot be simply and unequivocally identified with the sensations provided by a purely anatomical body. The body image is as much a function of the subject’s psychology and sociohistorical context as its anatomy’’ (Grosz I994,p. 79). See also Bordo 1993.

107. The philosopher Iris Young considers a similar set of problems in her book and essay of the same title (Young 1990).

108. Phenomenology is a field that studies the body as an active partici­pant in the creation of self. Young writes: ‘‘Merleau-Ponty reorients the entire tradition of that questioning by locating subjectivity not in mind or conscious­ness but in the body. Merleau-Ponty gives to the lived body the ontological status that Sartre. . . attribute(s) to consciousness alone’’ (Young 1990), p. 147-

Grosz relies heavily on a rereading of Freud, on the neurophysiologist Paul Schilder (Schilder 1950), and on the phenomenologist Maurice Merleau – Ponty (Merleau-Ponty 1962).

109. Grosz 1994.P. 116.

110. Ibid., p. 117. The scholars to whom Grosz turns to understand the processes of external inscription and subject formation include Michel Fou­cault, Friedrich Nietzsche, Alphonso Lingis, Gilles Deleuze, and Felix Gu – attari.

in. For continuing discussion of the positions Grosz develops, see Grosz 1995; Young 1990; and Williams and Bendelow 1998.

112. I suspect that Grosz understands this, but has chosen the ill-defined starting point of a ‘‘drive’’ (hunger, thirst, etc.) because she needed to begin her analysis somewhere. In fact, she mentored Elisabeth Wilson, whose work provides part of the theoretical basis needed to dissect the notion of drive itself.

113. In discussing developmental systems theory, I do a lot of ‘‘lumping.’’ I have found new ways of thinking about organismic (including human) devel­opment among thinkers working in a number of different disciplines. They have not always read each other, but I discern common threads that link them. At the risk of doing one or more of them an injustice, I will refer to them under the rubric of developmental systems theorists. The disciplinary back­grounds out of which this work comes include: Philosophy: Dupre 1993; Hack­ing 1992 and 1995; Oyama 1985, 1989, 1992a, 1992b, 1993; andPlumwood

1993. Biology: Ho et al. 1987; Ho and Fox 1988; Rose 1998; Habib et al. 1991; Gray 1992; Griffiths and Gray 1994a, 1994b; Gray 1997; Goodwin and Saunders 1989; Held 1994; Levins andLewontin 1985; Lewontin et al. 1984; Lewontin 1992; Keller and Ahouse 1997; Ingber 1998; Johnstone and Gott­lieb 1990; and Cohen and Stewart 1994. Feminist Theory: Butler 1993; Grosz 1994; Wilson 1998; and Haraway 1997. Psychology and Sociology: Fogel and Thelen 1987; Fogel etal. 1997; Lorber 1993 and 1994; Thorne 1993; Garcia – Coll et al. 1997); Johnston 1987; and Hendriks-Jansen 1996. Law: Halley

1994. Science Studies: Taylor 1995, 1997, 1998a, and 1998b; Barad 1996.

114. Many social scientists and some geneticists view organisms as re­sulting from the addition ofgenes and environment. They study organisms by looking at their variability and ask what proportion of the variability can be attributed to genes and what proportion to environment. A third term, which they designate as a gene-environment interaction, may be added to the equa­tion of the simple sums if genetic and environmental cause don’t account for all of the variance. This approach has been roundly criticized on more than one occasion. Sometimes such scientists call themselves interactionists, be­cause they accept that both genes and environment are involved. Their critics note that this approach to the analysis of variance portrays genes and environ­ment as separately measurable entities. Some of these critics also refer to themselves as interactionists because they consider it impossible to separate the genetic from the environmental. I prefer to use the idea of a develop­mental system because of this confusion of terminology and because the idea of a system entails the concept of mutual interdependence of its parts. For critiques of the partitioning of variance, see Lewontin 1974; Roubertoux and Carlier 1978; and Wahlsten 1990 and 1994.

115. Oyama 1985, p. 9. The revised and expanded edition of Oyama’s book is due out in the year 2000 (Duke University Press).

116. Taylor 1998a, p. 24.

117. For references on this point, see Alberch 1989, p. 44. As another example, an embryo needs to move in the womb to integrate nerve, muscle, and skeletal development. Mallard ducklings still in the shell must hear them­selves quack in order to respond to maternal quacks. (Wood ducks need to hear their siblings quack in order to develop the ability to recognize Mom.) (Gottlieb 1997).

118. Ho i989,p. 34. Alberch makes a similar point, writing, ‘‘itisimpos – sible to state that form determines function or vice versa since they are inter­connected at the level of the generative process’’ (Alberch i989,p. 44).

119. LeVay’s results still await confirmation and in the meantime have been subject to intense scrutiny (LeVay 1991). See Fausto-Sterling i992aand 1992b; Byne and Parsons 1993; and Byne 1995. I do not read anything into the current lack of confirmation other than that it is a difficult study to do because of the relative scarcity of autopsy material from individuals with a known sexual history. A confirmation of his results will not help us under­stand very much about the development or maintenance of homosexuality unless we place the information into a developmental system. Standing alone, his findings can prove neither nature nor nurture.

120. I was horrified to start getting mailings and phone calls from right­wing Christian organizations that assumed my public argument with LeVay meant I was sympathetic to their homophobic agenda.

121. Bailey and Pillard 1991; Bailey et al. 1993; Hamer et al. 1993.

i22 . In a detailed and brilliant analysis of the problems posed by the na – ture/nurture, essential/constructed, biology/environment dichotomies, the lawyer Janet Halley calls for the development of common ground from which to struggle for personal, political, and social equality (Halley 1994).

123. Oyama 1985.

124. LeVay 1996.

125. Extraordinary, because it is not customary to use a strictly scientific report to discuss the potential social implications of one’s work. Hamer et al. I993,p.326.

126. Wilson is more interested in the philosophical nature of the attacks on LeVay’s work than in the technical critiques. She willingly grants the valid­ity of many of these, as, indeed, does LeVay himself (see LeVay 1996). For the technical critiques see Fausto-Sterling 1992a and 1992b; and Byne and Parsons 1993.

127. Wilson includes me in the list of feminists who had a knee-jerk anti­biology response to LeVay. While I don’t think that I have ever thought of human sexuality in terms that discard the body, it is true that I have been wary of putting many such thoughts into print because I was caught in the grip of the essentialist/antiessentialist dualism. The history of essentialist ideology in the oppression of women, homosexuals, and people of color has been an enormous counterweight in my thinking. Only now that I see how systems theory provides a way out of this dilemma am I willing to commit myself to discussing these questions on the printed page.

128. Wilson i998,p. 203.

129. I will discuss here some of those connectionists who apply their ideas to brain function or who model brain function using computer models of neural networks.

130. The psychologist Esther Thelen writes: ‘‘A view now is that multimodal information is bound together frequently and in multiple sites along the processing stream and that there is no single localized area in the brain where perceptual binding occurs’’ (Thelen i995,p. 89).

Connectionists postulate processing elements called nodes, or units (which might, for example, be nerve cells). The nodes have many connections that enable them both to receive and send signals to other nodes. Different connec­tions have different weights or strengths. Some nodes receive signals while others send them. Between these two types of nodes lie one or more layers that transform signals as they are sent. The transformations happen according to basic rules. One type is a i: i (i. e., linear) transmission, another is a thresh­old (i. e., above a certain level of input, a new response is activated). It is the nonlinear responses of neural network models that most resemble actual human behavior and that have excited the imagination of cognitive psychol­ogists.

131. I have cobbled together this primitive account of a complex field from three sources: Wilson 1998; Pinker 1997; and Elman et al. 1996.

132. This has recently been shown to be the case for studies of mouse behavior. Three groups of researchers on different parts of the North Ameri­can continent took genetically identical strains of mice and attempted to get them to exhibit the same behavior. To do this, they standardized the experi­ments in every way they could think of—same time of day, same apparatus, same testing protocol, etc.—but they got markedly different results. There were clearly laboratory-specific environmental effects on behavior in these mice, but the experimentalists cannot figure out what environmental cues are important. They urge caution and multiple-site testing before concluding that a genetic defect affects a behavior (Crabbe et al. 1999).

133. When researchers ask identical twins to solve puzzles, the twins come up with answers that are more alike than those of paired strangers. But if monitored using PET scans, while working on the puzzles, the twins’ brains do not show identical function. ‘‘Those identical twins with their identical genes never have identical brains. Every measure differs.’’ This result is expli­cable with a developmental systems account of behavior, but less so with an accountthat suggests that genes ‘‘program’’ behavior (Sapolsky 1997, p. 42).

134. Elman et al. i996,p. 339. See also Fischer 1990.

133. Joan Fujimura writes: ‘‘Just because something is constructed does not mean that it is not real’’(Fujimura 1997, p. 4). Haraway writes: ‘‘The bodies are perfectly ‘real.’ Nothing about corporealization is ‘merely fiction.’ But corporealization is tropic and historically specific at every layer of its tis­sues’’ (Haraway 1997, p. 142).

136. Haraway envisions objects such as the corpus callosum as nodes out of which grow ‘‘sticky threads’’ that ‘‘lead to every nook and cranny of the world’’ (see the last two chapters of this book for concrete examples). Biolo­gists, doctors, psychologists, and sociologists all employ a ‘‘knot of knowledge-making practices,’’ including ‘‘commerce, popular culture, social struggles. . . bodily histories. . . inherited narratives, new stories,’’ neurobi­ology, genetics, and the theory of evolution to construct beliefs about human sexuality (Haraway 1997, p. 129). She refers to the construction process as material-semiotic practice and the objects themselves as material-semiotic objects. She uses this complex phrase very specifically to bypass the real/ constructed divide. Human bodies are real (i. e., material) but they interact only via language—the use of signs (verbal and otherwise). Hence the word semiotic.

137. This is a good example of Dupre’s argument that there is no fixed way to divide up nature (Dupre 1993) and of Latour’s plea to look at science in action (Latour 1987).

138. Connectionists, of course, do not believe that behaviors and motiva­tions have a permanent location in the brain; instead, they view behavior as the result of a dynamic process.

Russian Dolls

Is there some easy way to envision the double-sided process that connects the production of gendered knowledge about the body on the one surface to the materialization of gender within the body on the other?90 While no metaphor is perfect, Russian nesting dolls have always fascinated me. As I take apart each outer doll, I wait expectantly to see if there is yet a smaller one within. As the dolls get tinier and tinier, I marvel at the delicacy of the craft that produces successively smaller dolls. But displaying them is a dilemma. Should I leave each doll separate but visible, lined up in an ever-diminishing row? Such a display is pleasing, because it shows each component of the largest doll, but dissatisfying, because each individual doll, while visible, is empty. The complexity of the nesting is gone and, with it, the pleasure, craft, and beauty of the assembled structure. Understanding the system of nesting dolls comes not from seeing each separate doll, but from the process of assembly and disas­sembly.

I find the Russian nesting doll useful for envisioning the various layers of human sexuality, from the cellular to the social and historical (figure 9.4).91 Academics can take the system apart for display or to study one of the dolls in more detail. But an individual doll is hollow. Only the complete assembly makes sense. Unlike its wooden counterpart, the human nesting doll changes shape with time. Change can happen in any of the layers, but since the entire assembly has to fit together, altering one of the component dolls requires the interlinked system—from the cellular to the institutional—to change.

While social and comparative historians write about the past to help us understand why we frame the present in particular ways (the outermost doll),

Russian Dolls

figure 9.4: The organism as represented by a system of Russian stacking

dolls. (Source: Erica Warp, for the author) analysts of popular culture, literary critics, anthropologists, and some sociol­ogists tell us about our current culture (the second largest doll). They analyze our aggregate behaviors, think about how individuals and institutions inter­act, and chronicle social change. Other sociologists and psychologists think about individual relationships and individual development (the third largest doll), while some psychologists write about the mind or psyche (the fourth doll in). As the location (or, as some would prefer, activity) that links events that occur outside the body to those that occur inside the organism (the sec­ond smallest doll),92 the mind plays an important and peculiar function. The brain is a key organ in the transfer of information from outside the body in and back again, and neuroscientists of many stripes try not only to understand how the brain works as an integrated organ but also how its individual cells function. Indeed, cells make the final, tiny doll found within the organism.93 In different organs, cells specialize for a variety of functions. They also work as systems, their history and immediate surroundings stimulating signals for particular genes—to contribute (or not) to cellular activities.

Using Russian nesting dolls as a framework suggests that history, culture, relationships, psyche, organism, and cell are each appropriate locations from which to study the formation and meanings of sexuality and gender. Develop­mental systems theory, whether applied to the assembled doll or to its sub­units, provides the scaffolding for thought and experiment. Assembling the smaller dolls into a single large one requires the integration of knowledge derived from very different levels of biological and social organization. The cell, the individual, groups of individuals organized in families, peer groups, cultures, and nations and their histories all provide sources of knowledge about human sexuality. We cannot understand it well unless we consider all of these components. To accomplish such a task, scholars would do well to work in interdisciplinary groups. And while it is not reasonable, for example, to ask all biologists to become proficient in feminist theory or all feminist theorists to be proficient in cell biology, it is reasonable to ask each group of scholars to understand the limitations of knowledge obtained from working within a single discipline. Only nonhierarchical, multidisciplinary teams can devise more complete (or what Sandra Harding calls ‘‘less false’’)94 knowledge about human sexuality.

I do not naively believe that tomorrow everyone will rush out and join interdisciplinary research teams while revising their belief systems about the nature of scientific knowledge. But public controversies about sex differences and sexuality will continue to break out. Can homosexuals change? Were we born that way? Can girls do high-level mathematics and compete well in the physical sciences? Whenever these or related quandaries boil to the surface, I hope that readers can return to this book to find new and better ways to conceptualize the problems at hand.

The feminist theorist Donna Haraway has written that biology is politics by other means.95 This book provides an extended argument for the truth of that claim. We will, I am sure, continue to fight our politics through argu­ments about biology. I want us never, in the process, to lose sight of the fact that our debates about the body’s biology are always simultaneously moral, ethical, and political debates about social and political equality and the possi­bilities for change. Nothing less is at stake.

Russian Dolls