On So-Called Conversion Therapy: An Interview with Lucas F.W. Wilson
In the late 1990s, I had finished an MA in moral philosophy ("ethics") and was casting about for ideas for a doctoral dissertation. As a student at a Catholic university in Ottawa, I had for several years been fascinated by the literature on "conversion therapy" or "reparative therapy" of the so-called disorder of homosexuality. I pitched to one professor, who had directed my MA thesis, the prospect of writing on the ethics of Christian clinicians continuing to promote and practice "conversion therapy" when there was an increasing body of empirical literature emerging at that point showing not just the total lack of efficacy of such therapy, but the active harm it was doing to patients. My professor thought the topic eminently suitable for a dissertation, but in the end my life went off in several other directions and I never wrote on the topic even after reading a great deal in the area. So it remains something of interest to me.
I contacted him by e-mail to ask for an interview about the book. Here are his thoughts.
AD: Tell us about your background
LFWW: I grew up in a home with a dad who was an agnostic and a mom who, as I say now, was haunted by her Baptist demons. We were not a Christian family by any means, even if we went to church in the early years of my life. In fact, by grade three or so, my family—like all good Canadian families—went to the cottage rather than church. But when I was just about to enter high school, I became interested in questions of faith, and by the time I was in grade nine, I became a zealous evangelical and remained so for just over ten years (until I deconverted around age 27). When it came time to choose which college I would attend, I chose to study at the world’s largest evangelical college: Liberty University, Jerry Falwell’s school, located in Lynchburg, Virginia. It was there, on campus, that I underwent four years of conversion therapy—that which is now commonly referred to as conversion practices.
After leaving Liberty, I went on to graduate school and received a proper education. Most of my academic training was in literature, but as time went on, I became increasingly interdisciplinary, working in the fields of religious studies, history, and creative writing. My work has largely centered on the Holocaust, but given the rise in anti-queer and anti-trans violence, public policy, and legislation, I redirected my attention on a main catalyst of homophobia and transphobia today: white Christian nationalism.
LFWW: Both the Holocaust and conversion therapy are inextricably connected to Christianity. The Holocaust never would have happened, as it did at least, had it not been for Christianity. Both the Christian scriptures and Christian theology laid the seedbed for the Holocaust—so much of the hatred against Jews that was in circulation before and during (and after) the Shoah was a function of Christian antisemitism. As for conversion therapy, efforts to change individuals’ nonnormative sexualities and genders were enthusiastically supported and promoted by Christians since at least the 1970s; although conversion therapy began in secular contexts, it became something that has occurred disproportionately in conservative Christian contexts. Christianity has played a significant role in both of these sustained attacks on minority groups, and my research on these topics addresses the ways by which Christianity has so easily lent itself to such hatred.
AD: What led you to write this book in particular on conversion therapy?
LFWW: I’ve been writing and speaking about conversion therapy for a few years now. Because of this work, in concert with my involvement in the fight against conversion practices in Canada, I was invited by the fabulous Alex DiFrancesco (who became my editor) to edit Shame-Sex Attraction, an anthology of stories about conversion practices as told by survivors themselves. We thought it was important for all the stories in the collection to be written by survivors themselves; representation of conversion therapy has not always centered survivors, and we wanted to make sure that this collection elevated their voices. So, we only included survivors in Shame-Sex Attraction.
AD: In your introduction you not only argue that conversion therapies are ineffective, fraudulent, and harmful, but also practices that are motivated by "genocidal intentions." Some, I expect, might question such language. Can you elaborate on what you meant?
LFWW: This language and argument is original to two rockstar academics whose work I love: Christine M. Robinson and Sue E. Spivey. Though I can’t take credit for this language or argument, I draw upon both Robinson and Spivey’s research in almost all the work I do on conversion therapy, including in the introduction of Shame-Sex Attraction. Put simply, conversion therapists’ desire is for queers not to exist. Indeed, their goal is to eradicate any and all queer and trans representation, vitality, and life. That is, if conversion therapists could have their way, they want to see an end to me, LGBTQ2S+ communities, and queer and trans culture totally and completely. Such a desire is, definitionally, motivated by genocidal intentions. Although some supporters and practitioners of conversion therapy would not want us physically dead—though I am sure many do—genocide does not always aim to physically eliminate people. As has been well-established (especially in regard to Indigenous folks in North America), genocide can also be cultural.
AD: In your introduction especially you give a good overview of the literature on conversion therapies and the awareness of the harms these practices cause, noting that most of the practices still endure today "especially in religious spaces." You hint at some diversity here, but do not go into detail. Are there, to your knowledge, any religious traditions that refuse to engage in conversion treatments or have denounced them?
Yes! There are a number of religious traditions that are not complicit in conversion practices and that actively advocate against the harmful efforts to change queer and trans folx’s sexualities and genders. These are mostly more progressive mainline Christian and Reform Jewish congregations. The sad reality is, however, that many conservative religious traditions continue in their attempts to change queer folx’s genders and sexualities, despite these progressive religious traditions doing the good work they do.
AD: In looking at national data of those forced to undergo conversion practices, you highlight that "specific minority populations" (p.17) undergo such practices at much higher rates. Any thoughts on why this might be the case?
LFWW: There are a number of complicating factors as to why minority populations are disproportionately targeted. Insofar as many of these folx face increased barriers to education, appropriate healthcare, and other resources, they are more vulnerable to conversion practices. If we think of trans folx specifically, there are numerous challenges they face in regards to receiving proper gender-affirming care. Many trans and nonbinary folx are moreover pushed into conversion therapy in religious contexts because their gender expressions do not allow them to pass; when these individuals were raised in religious families and communities, they were not always able to hide their non-normative genders and were thus more prone to conversion practices.
LFWW: No doubt, there were political factors that shaped the classification of homosexuality as a mental illness in the DSM. There were also social factors like the diffuse cultural homophobia that was in cultural circulation at the time, which made it seem obvious or natural that homosexuality was an illness. But with Alfred Kinsey’s early work in the 1940s, there was already research to suggest that homosexuality was not a mental illness. Shortly after the DSM came out, Kinsey’s next study, along with the work of Evelyn Hooker and others, further refuted this pathologization of homosexuality; however, it was not until 1973 that homosexuality was removed from the DSM. Indeed motivated by political and social politics of the time, this declassification of homosexuality came 21 years too late.
AD: You note that in the 1970s, when "Christian ministries emerged for queer individuals to become straight" (p.20) they were focused on the "transformative power of Jesus" and thus "did not draw on psychological 'explanations' of homosexuality until the 1980s." Have you looked at those programs from the 70s? I'm very curious as to what they consisted of. I'm equally wondering about your thoughts on why they made the turn to psychological explanations in the following decade? What might have motivated that?
LFWW: I have looked at the 1970s programs, albeit only briefly (there has not been an abundance of research on this subject and most of my research has centered on the later aspects of conversion practices). I am familiar with Chris Babits’ work that has focused on Kent Philpott, an early conversion therapist who relied heavily on the curative powers of the Holy Spirit and exorcisms throughout the 1970s. Like Philpott, the early conversion-therapy programs relied heavily upon prayer and faith, and both prayer and faith remained main aspects of conversion practices for many years.
However, as I explain in the book, by the 1980s they were incorporating so-called psychological explanations for queerness into their teachings. I think the main reason for this was the symbiotic relationship ex-gay ministries and ex-gay “researchers” that the two groups formed. The ministries gained ostensible legitimacy because they had supposed psychological “research” to back up their claims, and the “researchers” (a dubious term to use in regards to these folks) got paid for their books, seminars, and conferences for which the ministries were paying. This is certainly a large reason for what motivated the psychological turn.
AD: I've edited international scholarly collections and one hallmark is often an enormous diversity in individual chapters, but what I find striking in yours is a certain "uniformity" in that all the chapters resist being tied up in a neat, nice little bow at the end, allowing the reader to go away with a comforting ending. Was that an explicit editorial direction you gave to contributors?
LFWW: This was an explicit editorial direction, yes. I wanted readers to have to sit in the discomfort of what it is like to undergo conversion therapy. Obviously, this is a second-hand discomfort, and most folks (thankfully) will never know the depths of what it was like to be subjected to such dehumanizing practices. However, the endings were to disable readers from feeling some sort of narrative resolution or a sense that all was well for the authors after their time in conversion therapy. I think that we as humans (if I may make such a broad claim about all humanity) desire a sense of resolution when reading or listening to stories and that we often crave a happy ending. The stories’ endings in the collection, as abrupt and unresolved as they are, pointed to how, for survivors, our experiences were quite rough for quite some time. Although we eventually were able to come to terms with what happened to us, for a long time we had really unresolved and difficult times piecing ourselves back together. The stories’ endings gave voice to this, even if indirectly or in a small way.
AD: The cumulative effect of such abrupt endings is, for me at least, a sharp awareness of the ongoing suffering of those who endured conversion therapies. This, in turn, gives rise to two questions: what do you find people need to recover from conversion "therapies"? Are there common things that many or even most people find helpful?
LFWW: In a Canadian study of conversion practices from a few years ago, that which was most helpful for survivors to recover and come to terms with their experience was friendships with affirming people, followed closely by friendships with 2SLGBTQ+ individuals. In other words, community is wildly important. Of course, therapy is always a good idea (for survivors and non-survivors alike), but not everyone can afford it. However, friendships are free, and a supportive community is of utmost importance to heal.
AD: You note that your contributors are from North America and Australia, and mostly experienced conversion treatments in Christian contexts. Are there researchers out there you are aware of looking at conversion practices in the global south--Africa especially? (Some churches in Nigeria and Uganda have been especially virulent in their homophobia and promotion of the idea of "converting" from such a "sinful lifestyle".) And are there conversion practices in Islamic and other religious traditions that you know of?
LFWW: Yes, there are researchers who are doing work on conversion practices in the Global South; however, the majority of research focuses on such practices in the West. I think this is a major issue because conversion practices are ubiquitous and happen everywhere. Wherever there is religion, there are conversion practices (including in Muslim contexts). Though I hope the research on conversion practices in the West continues, I am even more eager to see the body of research on conversion practices in the Global South grow—not to mention research specifically on conversion practices in Muslim contexts.
AD: Sum up your hopes for the book.
LFWW: I would love (and I mean love) for this book to change the minds of conversion practitioners and those who endorse conversion practices—to show them how death-dealing it is to try to change others’ sexualities and genders. I want to show them the immense psychological, emotional, and spiritual harm such practices cause. But I also know that the vast majority of conversion practitioners and their supporters will never read this collection, and even if they did, it would likely not change their minds—these folks do not have the ears to hear or the eyes to see that what they are doing and/or supporting is wrong. As such, I know this desire for them to change their minds after reading this work is a pipedream.
In either case, I hope that survivors of conversion practices find this book and that they see themselves in its pages. I hope this book offers them solace in that they are part of a group that has persisted despite countless attempts to erase us. And I hope this book reminds them that they are nothing short of beautiful, strong, and resilient—that they are in fact survivors.
I am currently working on another edited collection, this one about queer experiences at Christian colleges, universities, and seminaries. I am accepting submissions until April 15, so if anyone is interested in submitting a story, I invite them to e-mail me!