This was a tougher read than I expected. I was about to write “not being a sports girlie myself” but stopped because I do play sports now—but I only got into that last summer, and it’s recreational, co-ed, and very inclusive. Anyway, I wasn’t expecting Fair Play to hit me as hard as it did considering it’s about transgender issues. Katie Barnes covers the debates around the inclusion of trans people in sports with sensitivity and dedication. What I most value about this book is something many other reviewers seem to have disliked: an emphasis on feelings over facts.

Barnes is a sports journalist by trade and a former participant in women’s sports. They are also nonbinary. They use all these experiences to shape Fair Play, which ultimately revolves around the question of how to include gender-nonconforming and -expansive athletes in sports segregated by sex/gender. The book starts with a brief history of sex segregation in sports and some of the controversies over inclusion of women in men’s sports, etc., before quickly focusing on the last twenty years and how the question of trans people’s participation has been politicized as trans people ourselves have become more visible. The book is organized like a series of case studies; each chapter covers either a specific athlete who became a flashpoint for controversy or a related topic. At the end, Barnes offers up their own views, as well as an epilogue that gives the most up-to-date status of gender policies at the time the book went to press.

Fair Play focuses almost exclusively on American sports and politics, venturing into international territory only insofar as it starts mentioning the Olympics or international sports bodies. Barnes covers South African runner Caster Semenya, for example, as a notable controversy over differences in sex development in athletes. This is an exception in a book that otherwise focuses on high school and college sports. As a Canadian, it mostly got me wondering about trans inclusion policies in my country (I know some premiers have taken up the transphobia from our neighbour to the south and started talking about restrictive policies). Nevertheless, this information is useful given how much influence domestic American policies still have on the global athletic scene.

Similarly, it’s important to note that even though this book is less than two years old, parts of it are already out of date. The second Trump administration has, in its first month at the date I am writing this review, already taken a hard aim at transgender participation in society, including sports. Barnes anticipates this in their epilogue, which is literally subtitled, “The March Toward Restriction.” They and trans advocacy organizations knew what was coming even though it wasn’t a forgone conclusion at the time that Trump would be reelected. As it is, most of Fair Play is relevant as an informative chronology and analysis of “how we got to here.”

The rawness of connecting this book’s coverage to what is currently in the news is one reason why I found this to be a tougher read than I expected. I mistakenly assumed my privilege as a white, well-educated trans woman living in a tiny corner of northern Ontario would insulate me from feeling some kind of way about the trans kids whose athletic aspirations are being crushed, or the trans athletes who are having to choose between being their authentic selves or staying in the closet to participate in the sport they love. Oops. Guess I am not so hard-hearted after all.

And this is why, unlike some reviewers, I am so pleased Barnes chooses to focus on storytelling over statistics. That is to say, we know from extensive research that facts are not as effective at changing people’s minds. You say you want data—you really don’t. As Barnes notes, there is a dearth of data on trans people in sports and how sex-linked hormones like testosterone affect the performance of trans people who are taking hormone therapy. Few people have chosen to do the research; fewer still have received funding; for some reason, there aren’t enough trans athletes to study sometimes (funny how that works, huh?). I saw one reviewer insist transphobes would somehow drop their objections to the inclusion of trans people in women’s sports if only there were more data to back up the idea we aren’t a threat … and I am here to tell you, definitively, that won’t happen. Transphobic people are not transphobic because they lack data. They are transphobic because they don’t see trans people as authentic, and no amount of facts will change that.

For the record, I think it’s great that Barnes parlays with the facts as much as possible, if only to belie the moral panic. It is very important to repeat how few openly trans athletes are playing sports in high school and college right now, let alone at a professional level, and how none is dominating their sport in the way transphobes claim. The idea that any sports, including women’s sports, is under threat by the inclusion of trans people is categorically false by any metric.

That being said, I deeply believe this is a situation where feelings matter over facts, and to that end I appreciate the tack Fair Play takes. Over and over, Barnes says, “I am going to give you all the details from the beginning.” They cut through the sound bites most of us probably heard about Semenya or Thomas or Yearwood. They relate everything, chronologically, and illuminate their audience about the more obscure collegiate or international rules we might not be aware of if we don’t follow sports. To say this humanizes these athletes is, um, depressing but also very accurate. And that is what we need.

The chapter that stuck most with me is Chapter 8: “The Breakup in Women’s Sports,” wherein Barnes discusses women’s sports activists Pat Griffin, Donna Lopiano, Felice Duffy, Doriane Coleman, and Nancy Hogshead-Makar. All these cis women (some queer) meeting to talk about trans participation in sports without trans people in the room, a fact Barnes notes, even as they laud some of these women for their role in blazing a trail for women’s and girls’ sports in the latter half of the twentieth century. This is the fundamental tension at the heart of the debate over trans people in sports: sex segregation in sports is rooted in misogyny, yet simply eliminating it would eliminate opportunities for women and girls, and no one wants that. So these activists are, in some dimensions, doing important work. Yet some of them are also incredibly transphobic. (Two things can be true!) Barnes quotes Griffin, who says, “I think, fundamenally, [Lopiano, Coleman, and Hogshead-Makar] don’t see transgender women as women…. I think they see them as men.”

Indeed, not a day after reading that chapter, I saw someone sharing a screenshot from a recent New York Times article wherein Coleman says, of Trump’s newest executive orders, that they are “both wrong on the substance and understandably scary for trans people.” In other words, while Coleman is literally getting what she wants (trans women banned from women’s sports), she worries it’s coming across as mean. Because she wants her bigotry to feel more palatable.

I don’t know. Barnes is so much more professional in this book than I think I could be in their shoes. They are trying really hard to extend grace to the Colemans of the world to whom they feel a debt of gratitude for carving out women’s sports. I get it. I want to agree with Barnes that this is a nuanced issue, one where policies need to be flexible yet realistic. I definitely agree with them that neither they nor I have enough expertise to opine on what kinds of hormonal level restrictions (if any) should exist at elite levels. However, over and over, as I read this book, I couldn’t shake the one unmistakable feeling rising within me, which is simply that the majority of people who oppose the inclusion of trans women in women’s sports do so because they see us as men. Full stop. No amount of hormone therapy, of testosterone reduction, of living as our authentic gender for any period of time, will ever change that for them.

That is why Fair Play rightly focuses on the personal stories of trans athletes. Because the majority of Americans reading this book are doing so in a climate where they have been misled about the dangers trans people pose to society. They have been conditioned not to see us as human. So as much as I hate it, the stories humanizing us are the way to go right now.

Trans people belong in sport. Trans women deserve to participate in women’s sports. The idea of sex-segregated sports deserves reexamination and perhaps revision in a way that still acknowledges the effects of patriarchy on sports participation. At the same time, none of this can happen as long as trans people are forced to fight merely for survival. Fair Play is a comprehensive and careful look at gender policies in sports in the US. Beyond that, however, it touches a nerve—it did for me as a trans woman, but I hope it does so for cis readers too. Barnes reminds us that participation in sport, especially for children, should not be about winning or losing. Sport is a fundamental human experience, and we need to keep it that way.

Originally posted at Kara.Reviews.