Pride Month was once a unifying moment, a mosaic of shared struggle and collective joy under a common cause. However, in the year 2025, visible cracks are emerging. And some of the deepest fractures aren’t coming from outside the LGBTQ+ umbrella, but from within.
Across social media, political circles, and the airwaves, a growing number of cisgender white gay men are aligning with anti-trans, far-right rhetoric. They’re joining movements that threaten transgender rights, echoing talking points once exclusive to the religious right, and in some cases, even funding or endorsing political candidates who openly oppose LGBTQ+ protections.
This isn’t a one-off phenomenon. It’s a pattern. And it’s one the transgender community, and our allies, need to understand, confront, and resist.
The New Face of Respectability Politics
To be clear, not all cis gay men are part of this trend. But the ones who are? They’re loud, they’re visible, and they know exactly what they’re doing.
We’re talking about the Andrew Sullivans, the Dave Rubins, the “Gays Against Groomers,” and the suburban influencers on TikTok parroting TERF rhetoric to 50,000 followers. Many of them position themselves as truth-tellers, anti-woke warriors, or guardians of “real” gay rights. And to hear them tell it, the LGBTQ+ movement has gone too far, specifically when it comes to trans people.
But let’s not pretend this is a new argument. It’s a repackaging of an old, tired impulse: respectability politics.
In the ‘90s and early 2000s, many white gay men pushed for acceptance by appealing to heteronormative ideals: “We’re just like you, monogamous, clean-cut, not political, not weird.” Marriage equality became the movement’s North Star, while issues like trans health care, racial justice, or sex worker rights were pushed aside.
Today’s far-right gay allies are repeating that playbook; only now they’ve made trans people the scapegoat.
From Liberation to Assimilation
It’s easy to forget: the original fight for LGBTQ+ rights wasn’t about assimilation. It was about survival. It was about liberation. The Stonewall Riots, the event many consider the birth of the modern Pride movement, were partially led by trans women of color, sex workers, drag queens, and street kids. Not investment bankers with rainbow socks.
But the further the movement shifted into mainstream acceptance, the more certain demographics, especially white cis gay men, benefited. They gained access to marriage, media representation, corporate power, and, in some cases, substantial political influence.
And now, some are using that power to throw others under the bus.
The Anti-Trans Pipeline: TikTok to Tucker Carlson
So how does a cis white gay man go from posting brunch pics to quoting Jordan Peterson?
For some, it starts with algorithms. Social media platforms, especially TikTok and YouTube, are notorious for serving users a steady diet of “anti-woke” content once they engage with even mildly critical LGBTQ+ or feminist videos. What starts as a “debate” clip turns into a radicalization pipeline. Suddenly, trans people aren’t your siblings in struggle, they’re “erasing women,” “grooming kids,” or “ruining Pride.”
Others are drawn in by a desire for social status. Being contrarian has become a brand. In a media landscape that rewards provocation over principle, attacking your own community can mean clicks, sponsors, and even a Fox News guest spot. The idea of being a “reasonable gay,” one who’s not like those queers, becomes marketable.
The rise of groups like Gays Against Groomers, with ties to far-right conspiracy networks, shows how quickly this content morphs from opinion to organized hate. What starts as “concern” about gender identity becomes calls to ban drag, criminalize gender-affirming care, and strip protections from queer youth, especially trans youth.
Who Gets Left Behind
Let’s be blunt: white cis gay men who align with the far right don’t care what happens to trans people, queer people of color, or anyone outside their social circle.
Because they don’t need to care.
They’ve already bought their seat at the table, through marriage rights, corporate approval, or simply the benefit of whiteness. That seat gives them a buffer from the rising wave of anti-LGBTQ+ violence sweeping the country. They can blend in. Many trans people cannot.
So when they say, “we’re going too far,” what they mean is, we’ve gotten everything we wanted. You’re making things inconvenient.
The cis gay man who votes Republican because of “the economy” isn’t confused about that party’s stance on LGBTQ+ rights. He just doesn’t think it will affect him.
But ask the Black trans woman who’s been banned from using a women’s restroom. Ask the 16-year-old nonbinary kid who’s lost access to health care. Ask the queer teacher being investigated for saying the word “trans” in class.
False Flags and Manufactured Backlash
One of the most dangerous weapons in this dynamic is plausible deniability. Cis white gay men who toe the far-right line rarely claim to be anti-LGBTQ+. Instead, they frame their ideology as concerned, rational, or anti-extreme.
They say things like:
- “I support trans people, just not the activism.”
- “I’m all for equality, but kids shouldn’t be on hormones.”
- “I don’t hate drag—I just don’t think it belongs in schools.”
- “Why are we letting men into women’s spaces?”
These talking points are copy-pasted from far-right propaganda. They are not organic debates. They are manufactured backlash, seeded by conservative think tanks, weaponized by influencers, and parroted by those seeking distance from the marginalized within their own communities.
Let’s be clear: when cis gay men echo these points, they’re not being brave; they’re being used.
The Politics of Proximity
It’s no coincidence that the gay men most susceptible to far-right alignment are often those with proximity to power, particularly whiteness, maleness, and wealth.
They’ve already climbed the ladder of social mobility, and now they’re pulling it up behind them. They see trans people, especially trans people of color, as a liability in their quest for mainstream respect.
This dynamic echoes what happens in other movements: the white feminist who excludes Black and trans women or the immigrant who votes to close the border after gaining citizenship. It’s the politics of proximity. Once they’re safe, they forget the others.
What Cis Gay Men Should Be Doing Instead
We need cis white gay men to remember where they came from and who made their liberation possible. We need them to reject proximity to power when that power comes at the expense of others. We need them to stop chasing acceptance from systems built to exclude.
Here’s what allyship actually looks like:
- Speaking out against anti-trans laws, even when it’s inconvenient
- Refusing to share platforms with TERFs or transphobes
- Donating to mutual aid funds for trans people
- Amplifying trans voices, not speaking over them
- Calling out peers who engage in hate instead of staying silent
And most importantly, understanding that liberation is not a limited resource.
Pride Was Never Yours Alone
Let’s strip it all the way down.
Pride isn’t about your Target swimsuit collection or your sponsored float. Pride is a riot, partially started by Black and brown trans women who had nothing but each other. Pride is about resistance to systems that labeled queerness as criminal, transness as pathology, and liberation as a threat.
If your idea of Pride is one where you’re the only one who gets to be free, you’ve missed the point entirely.
The Bottom Line
There is no neutral in this moment. You either stand with trans people, or you stand with the people trying to erase us.
And if you’re a cis gay man reading this and feeling attacked? That’s good. Because it means you’re still listening. Still reachable. Still human.
So here’s the challenge: Be more than tolerated. Be brave enough to reclaim the community you once fought to be part of, not just for yourself, but for all of us.
Because history won’t remember your brunch photos. It will remember your silence.
