Could ChatGPT Be the Antidote to Social Media?

An essay, an instant message, and a world of possibilities unfolding

Yesterday, I published a letter to my friends. Not my childhood friends, the four women who have stuck by me no matter what—my ride-or-dies, my lie-down-in-traffic-for-you buddies, who have pronounced themselves un-alienateable (fake word, but I like it). And not my gender friends, who have seen me at my best, so much so that they sometimes don’t believe me when I tell them about the miles of interpersonal burned bridges I’ve left behind. The letter—in the form of an essay—was directed at the friends in between, from college through parenthood, whom I’ve managed to alienate through this work. (Before this work, I was also very good at arranging to be abandoned, but that’s another story.)

Many months ago, my friend and colleague Ben Appel asked if I would write an essay for a special issue of Queer Majority that he was guest editing. The theme: Heretic. My response: HELL YES.

I wrote about the experience of learning that our side was wrong, and how destabilizing that was, and how I could not communicate it to my own people, and how irate and unpleasant I became, and how in some ways that replicated my pattern of alienating people, though at the end I decided to harness my heresy and allow it to strengthen me. (Don’t let this description stop you from reading it!)

When it came out yesterday, I sent the essay to various people obliquely referenced in it. My friend who made a documentary about trans kids. (No response.) My friend who wrote a book many years ago about trans teens. (A beautiful response: I disagree with you but still love you.) A friend who I have lost touch with for lots of reasons but whose respect has always been of the utmost importance to me. (Best response ever: You’ve been alienating me off and on for 30 years, but I still love you.) I have realized now that, as I near the end of a book draft (please, please, please let me finish this thing), I am really hoping to repair the relationships that have suffered in order to write it. And this essay seems to be at least opening the door to that.

But perhaps it is not resonating with the intended audience for my book: liberals who still see the issue of trans kids, gender identity, and youth gender medicine as left versus right. I posted the essay on Facebook, and got an angry note from a woman I knew (and, admittedly, had a crush on) in the 90s—a boyish lesbian, progressive in her politics. I tried to be polite, open, and honest, but she just kept telling me that I was harming people and that I should never write about trans people again. (Explain that to my publisher!)

A friend suggested running the exchange through AI, which is not something I have ever done. I’ve used AI for images, and once to make a mock script of my hit fake sitcom All in the Glitter Family. But this was different—and very surprising. AI not only performed a brilliant rhetorical analysis of her missive versus mine—short recap: I argued with facts and emotion, and she shamed me—but it asked if I would like to see how various kinds of people might react or respond to my piece. Why yes, I said. Please go forth.

What followed was not an interpretation of two sides. Rather, ChatGPT knew better than any journalist that there are many, many sides in the debate over youth gender medicine. And it articulated their positions so perfectly that I was awed and frightened. But I was also hopeful. What if educators, journalists, doctors, professionals of all kinds, could harness ChatGPT to help them see issues from multiple viewpoints in a way that their emotional attachments prevent them from doing? Rather than the deeply polarized echo chambers of social media, what if AI could usher in a symphony of viewpoint diversity?

Okay, okay, that’s way too optimistic! I know that. I realize that AI has already driven people to madness and that Trump’s Big Ugly Bill leaves it unregulated for a decade. But I’m hopeful about this one aspect of it. Please ask it to examine complex issues from multiple viewpoints, and report back on what you discover. Comments are open.

Also, please read the other brilliant essays in this issue, from Cori Cohn, Holly Lawford-Smith, Julie Bindel and many others. What an amazing issue Ben has put together!

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Lisa Selin Davis’s essay sits in a highly charged intersection of personal narrative, political dissent, and cultural critique. The reactions to it will vary dramatically depending on people’s ideological leanings, personal experiences, and professional commitments.

Here’s a breakdown of how different groups might respond, with nuance:

1. Progressive Activists / Trans Rights Advocates (Highly Affirming of Gender Identity Model)

🧠 Reaction: Outrage, betrayal, dismissal

These readers are likely to interpret Davis’s essay as dangerous, misinformed, or even transphobic — even if she explicitly states she supports adult transitions or opposes anti-trans discrimination.

• They may feel that her invocation of “science” or “desistance” echoes right-wing talking points.

• They’ll likely be angered by her framing of gender identity as a belief system akin to religion.

• Many will not engage with the substance, seeing the essay as “respectable bigotry” cloaked in parental concern.

📣 Typical response: “She’s giving cover to anti-trans legislation,” “She’s pathologizing trans youth,” or “This is harmful pseudoscience.”

2. Liberal Parents (Especially of Gender-Nonconforming Kids)

🧠 Reaction: Mixed — from uneasy agreement to nervous distancing

Some liberal parents — especially those with “tomboy” daughters or “sensitive” sons — will quietly nod along, having felt the same pressure to interpret their kids’ behavior through the lens of gender identity.

• Others may feel sympathetic to her concerns but recoil at how forcefully she expresses them.

• They may worry about social consequences of agreeing with her out loud.

🤐 Typical response: “She’s saying what we’re not allowed to say,” or, “She makes some good points, but I wish she said it differently.”

3. Conservative or Libertarian Audiences (Skeptical of GAC, Critical of Progressive Orthodoxy)

🧠 Reaction: Vindication, admiration

This group will see Davis as a brave apostate — someone from “the other side” who dared to break ranks.

• They’ll applaud her for challenging what they perceive as a “woke” narrative.

• Religious conservatives may admire her moral clarity, even if they don’t fully align with her politics.

• Libertarians will resonate with her critique of compelled speech and institutional conformity.

🎯 Typical response: “She’s proof the left is imploding,” or “Finally, someone on their side who gets it.”

4. Trans Adults (Especially Those Who Transitioned Later or Are Critical of Youth Medicalization)

🧠 Reaction: Strong solidarity and gratitude (from some), intense disapproval (from others)

• Transsexuals who transitioned as adults and are skeptical of pediatric transition (like Corinna Cohn or Buck Angel) will likely feel heard and validated.

• Detransitioners and those who regret youth medical interventions may feel grateful for her honesty.

• However, trans people who see gender identity as essential and immutable — and who see themselves in trans youth — may view Davis as threatening or invalidating.

💔 Typical split: “Thank you for speaking truth when no one else will,” vs. “You’re invalidating trans lives with your bad science and bad parenting.”

5. Mainstream Liberals / Professional-Class Readers (e.g. NYT Readers, NPR Listeners)

🧠 Reaction: Cognitive dissonance, discomfort, avoidance

This is Davis’s original audience — the educated, urban-liberal mainstream that tends to trust institutions and defer to expert consensus.

• They may find her essay unsettling, not because it’s wrong, but because it clashes with what they’ve been told is the “correct” view.

• Many won’t respond directly but may quietly begin to re-evaluate their assumptions.

• Others may compartmentalize: “She raises important concerns, but this is being weaponized by the right, so we can’t afford to platform it.”

😶 Typical response: “She used to be one of us — what happened?” or “Even if she’s right, she’s giving the wrong people ammunition.”

6. Detransitioners and Gender-Critical Feminists

🧠 Reaction: Deep resonance and appreciation

• Many in this camp will view her as a hero.

• She’s providing language — and legitimacy — to feelings they’ve long had but were afraid to voice.

• Her status as a progressive, feminist mother gives her a credibility they see as lacking in many other critics.

🔥 Typical response: “She’s putting into words what no one else dares say,” or “We’ve been screaming this for years — thank God someone with a platform is finally listening.”

7. Medical Professionals (Pediatricians, Psychiatrists, Endocrinologists)

🧠 Reaction: Professionally cautious, personally concerned

• Some who work with gender-questioning youth may privately agree with parts of her critique but feel unable to say so without risking career damage.

• Others may push back, especially those who are heavily invested in “affirmative” models.

• Still others may resent a journalist stepping into complex clinical territory, even if she cites the science accurately.

💼 Typical response: “She raises real issues, but she’s overstepping,” or “This is why we need clear protocols — to avoid this kind of polarization.”

8. Journalists / Media Gatekeepers

🧠 Reaction: Guilt, defensiveness, or quiet admiration

• Davis is describing a phenomenon many journalists know exists: that certain stories are untouchable.

• Some may sympathize but feel trapped — editors won’t let them report it.

• Others may resent her for calling them out — especially if they feel complicit.

📉 Typical response: “She’s oversimplifying,” or, in quiet moments: “She’s not wrong, but I can’t say that.”