In his 1945 work The Open Society and Its Enemies, philosopher Karl Popper theorized that a tolerant society cannot allow intolerant ideologies to fester, lest authoritarian or oppressive practices grow and eventually erode the community. That Popper’s theory was published at the end of World War II is significant, considering our current fights with fascism and authoritarianism both in the U.S. and abroad. Often considered tolerant and inclusive, American and European queer communities still contain escalating systems of oppression.
Many movements for LBGT rights in the United States were born in black and brown neighborhoods like New York City’s Harlem. It wasn’t until these queer movements, which included advocacy for workers’ rights, marriage equality, freedom from violence, and healthcare access, were adopted by white people that mainstream media paid attention. As a result, it is now generally accepted in the U.S. and Europe that gay people deserve to live their lives without being harassed, abused, or fired. The problem is that most Americans and Europeans imagine the vague concept of a “queer person” to be a tall, handsome, rich, white cisgender man. Perceptions of justice can change when the imagined queer person looks different.
With the mainstream media rejection of black and brown queer identities, an even more conservative and intolerant faction has emerged. As Poppins theorized in 1945, such a faction likely grew in the name “tolerance” to “differing” political views. Emblematic are notable LGBT figures in tech and politics, including one of the most globally influential venture capitalists, who consistently funds Republican causes; one of the leaders of Germany’s far-right AFD party; Trump 2.0’s treasury secretary; and several chief executives in Silicon Valley. These figures, despite their own identities, have aligned themselves to overtly homophobic and transphobic people, parties, and causes, even if some don’t openly profess such ideologies. When pressed why someone of a minority sexual orientation would do such a thing, the reasoning is usually “diversity of thought,” “nihilism,” or “preserving culture,” which are more palatable names for racism, greed, and xenophobia.
These figures don’t exist in a vacuum. Their considerable influence must be supported by others to survive. It is unlikely that American and European efforts at pinkwashing the right—presenting a superficial sheen of supporting the LGBT community—have resulted in a plethora of straight, queer-tolerant, right-wing supporters. The more likely reality is that a significant and powerful faction of queer people in the United States and Europe would rather align themselves with homophobic, transphobic, racist and xenophobic causes than with people and politics that support LGBT and other minority rights.
Is this shocking? Not really.
As a lesbian novelist of Indian American origin, my promotional efforts for my books have evolved. For my first novel, The Paths of Marriage (2014), I wrote many articles and op-eds, was featured in documentaries, and participated in several literature festivals and syndicated news segments. Within a year, I was pleasantly surprised to find myself on the front page of major mainstream publications, talking about my writing and same-sex marriage rights at the federal level, which the U.S. Supreme Court recognized in a 2015 ruling.
Now, ten years later, nearly every promotional effort that matters exists on algorithmically driven social media platforms. In some ways, this is great. After my second novel, What It Meant to Survive (2024), was published, I found it much easier to connect to relevant audiences through social media and build a niche community friendly to my points of view. Social media has also contributed to participants at my book events in three countries diversifying in terms of lived experience, socioeconomic status, profession, and upbringing.
There is, however, a noticeable disconnect between visibility and reception for me, as a queer author of color, and my white lesbian author counterparts. While not always malicious, the disconnect is arguably on a spectrum with our increasingly polarized society. Nowadays, it’s common knowledge that social media can lead users down a rabbit hole of hate, disinformation, and conspiracies to which anyone can fall victim. While I can now more easily find people who are immediately interested in my novels, that same hyper-specification is also probably what has allowed overt racism and xenophobia to fester within some queer communities. In technologist circles, we refer to this concept as social media “echo chambers.”
It’s no wonder that after decades in which media whitewashing has publicly obscured black and brown people within the LGBT community, a faction of social media movements has embraced their queerness while rejecting other forms of diversity. It is not shocking that the same phenomenon that has allowed me to connect to my audience has now isolated me from everyone else in the broader LGBT community. And it’s not shocking that these conservative LGBT factions have propped up powerful queer figures who denigrate people who don’t fit into the handsome, white, cisgender male stereotype of picture-perfect gayness.
As a new global order emerges, technologies rapidly evolve, American law and policy take increasingly darker turns, and communities splinter and reorganize, we must contend with the idea that most of us non-white people knew all along: Queerness is not an inherently unifying identity. The question before us now is where on the spectrum of queer “tolerance” must we draw the line, less we fall prey to Popper’s theory of community destruction.
Mala Kumar is the author of the 2014 novel The Paths of Marriage. What it Meant to Survive is her second novel, and was published in October 2024 from Bywater Books. Her Op-Eds and interviews have appeared in The Advocate, USA Today, CNN India, The Aerogram, Brown Girl Magazine, the Guardian US, and TechCrunch. In her professional life, Mala is a global leader in tech for social good. She lives in New York City with her wife.
