The following briefing looks at how people talk about transgender-related content on social media, specifically on X (formerly Twitter) and TikTok. We examined approximately 100 public comments reacting to transwomen and found a pattern: even when comments avoid overt slurs, they often carry the same harmful messages in subtle ways. The Global Internet Forum to Counter Terrorism (GIFCT) calls this borderline content (material that technically follows the rules but still mutes or discourages transgender voices). In other words, many posts rephrase hostility as if it were rational concern. What might seem like a “common sense” critique can actually be hate repackaged as reasonable opinion, making it harder to recognise and challenge. We approached this issue using critical discourse analysis (closely reading and categorising these comments) to understand not just what people say, but how these words work to spread prejudice.
Our analysis looked at what these comments actually do. We found that language is a tool: people use it to paint transwomen as dangerous “men”, to claim that including trans people is a threat to others’ safety, and to draw everyday users into policing gender boundaries. Notably, each platform has its own culture. On X (Twitter), users often make sweeping claims where they invoke “biological facts”, pseudo-scientific terms or argue about “free speech” to make their exclusion of trans people sound principled. Being anti-trans is presented as if it is intellectual debate. In contrast, TikTok users tend to focus on everyday actions, such as in video comments where trans people are refused access to certain bathrooms, or where insisting trans individuals must look sufficiently masculine or feminine (what’s known as “passing”) before they deserve any respect. In short, X provides the arguments and TikTok provides the street-level enforcement. Together, they paint a picture of trans presence as something to be confronted or controlled.
What emerges from our analysis is a whole pattern of discourse (essentially, an ecosystem of talk) in which the very existence of trans people is cast as a crisis. In these conversations, trans people’s civil rights are reframed as threats to society, and hostility gets laundered as if it were about safety or fairness. Across the comments, three themes surfaced repeatedly: (1) “Safety” and Moral Panic, (2) Biological Essentialism and Pathologisation (the belief that identity is fixed in biology and that certain identities or behaviours are treated as medical problems when they are not), and (3) Conditional Acceptance (the idea that trans people must “pass” to be tolerated). Each of these themes shows a different way that online speech works to undermine inclusion of trans individuals. In each case, what might seem like a “reasonable stance”, actually legitimises discrimination in the name of maintaining social order. Below, we unpack each theme and how it persuades people to view transwomen as outsiders or dangers, even when there is no real evidence for these claims. Importantly, we show how even seemingly ‘borderline’ content, comments that might not raise red flags at first glance, can play a crucial role in feeding a broader hate pipeline. In this emerging online ecosystem, X provides the ideological stage of hate, which TikTok then enforces through everyday policing.
1. “Safety” and Moral Panic as Regimes of Exclusion
Safety matters deeply to most of us, and with good reason. However, discourse around ‘safety’ is often used as a gateway to exclude transgender people. This tactic has also been deployed historically to justify other forms of discrimination, such as claims that ethnic minorities commit more crimes or that homosexuality spreads the AIDS virus. A common example appears in debates over public bathrooms. Some commenters online insist that transwomen are really just “men”, labelling them as potential sexual predators, implying that if transwomen are allowed in women’s restrooms or locker rooms, cisgender women (non-transwomen) will be in danger.
This is a myth (often called the “bathroom predator” myth) and it has been widely debunked. In fact, a comprehensive review found essentially no recorded instances of transwomen attacking others in public bathrooms. On the contrary, research shows that when trans people are allowed to use facilities matching their gender, there is no uptick in safety or privacy violations for anyone else. No evidence backs up the idea that trans-inclusive policies make bathrooms less safe. Meanwhile, transgender individuals themselves often report being harassed or even assaulted in public restrooms simply for trying to use the toilet. In short, the real safety threat is usually to trans people, not from them.
Why, then, is the fear so persistent? This is where the concept of a moral panic comes in. A moral panic is what happens when a group or issue is blown out of proportion and painted as a dire threat to society, with the fear having the potential to spread widely through the public, even when actual harm is minimal or non-existent. Here, transwomen have been cast as the new “folk devils” (a term from sociology for demonised groups). Powerful actors sometimes push this narrative because it rallies emotions. For example, sensational media stories might highlight a single controversial incident and generalise it to all trans people, creating the impression of a widespread crisis. Politicians may also play on these fears to win support, framing themselves as defenders of “ordinary women and children” against an invented menace. It’s an age-old strategy: by making people afraid, you can justify extreme measures and unite supporters. For example, in 1692 colonial Salem an irrational “witch hunt” panic gripped the town as residents accused roughly 25 neighbours (mostly women) of devilry on flimsy evidence, leading to their execution. Today, we view this as a baseless overreaction driven by mass fear. Likewise, during the 1950s Red Scare U.S. leaders stoked paranoia about “communist subversion”, launching loyalty oaths and blacklists against thousands of Americans, a campaign now remembered as a partisan witch-hunt. Both episodes show how unfounded scares have been used to target vulnerable groups with extreme policies.
Online, we see this panic not just in words but in calls to action. One user’s comment did not stop at saying transwomen are dangerous, it urged others to take action, essentially rallying people to “defend” public spaces against the imagined trans threat.
Suddenly, it’s not just an opinion: it’s a call for vigilantism. People begin talking about patrolling bathrooms or using force, taking the law into their own hands. This kind of talk normalises an extreme response and makes it seem acceptable to monitor or even attack transwomen “for the greater good”. In one instance, a commenter even escalated the fear to the context of schools: they labelled queer-inclusive books as “child porn” and advocated homeschooling to keep children “safe” from exposure.
This rhetoric hits all the classic notes of a moral panic as it portrays society (and especially children) as under immediate threat from a minority group’s mere existence or expression.
By constantly invoking “safety” in this distorted way, these narratives make exclusion, and harsh measures seem not only acceptable, but necessary. The underlying message is that trans presence is an emergency; a problem so serious that it warrants exceptional steps, whether that be banning trans people from certain spaces, heavily policing them, or censoring educational materials. Since the rhetoric frames it all as protective or common sense, people sharing these views may genuinely feel they are doing the right thing, not recognising the prejudice at work. It is important to stress that feeling unsafe is not the same as being unsafe. When our feelings are manipulated by lurid stories and what-if scenarios, we can end up supporting policies that hurt innocent people and solve a non-existent problem. In this theme, “safety” has been turned into a discursive weapon. It sounds like a call for protection, but it is really being used to justify discrimination and even violence. Being aware of this can help us all pause and ask: Is this fear based on facts? Or is it a product of a narrative designed to scapegoat a vulnerable group? Recognising a moral panic for what it is breaks its spell, allowing cooler heads and real evidence to guide our decisions.
2. Biological Essentialism & Pathologisation
The second common theme is the claim that “biology is destiny”; in other words, that science supposedly provides the final word on who is a man or a woman, leaving no room for trans people or other genders. This belief, known as biological essentialism, insists that gender is fixed at birth by chromosomes and anatomy. According to this view, if you were born male (XY chromosomes), you will always and only be a man, and if you were born female (XX chromosomes), you will always and only be a woman. Some online commenters wield this as a blunt tool; for example, a TikTok comment might declare that “XX chromosomes = woman, end of story”, implying any transwoman is inherently not a “real” woman.
It sounds scientific, but it’s an oversimplification because biology is far more complex (for instance, not everyone is strictly XX or XY, and hormones and brain chemistry also play roles in gender identity). More importantly, being transgender is not a science fiction idea; it’s a well-documented aspect of human diversity, recognised by medical experts.
Alongside this, we also see pathologisation, which is portraying trans identity as a medical problem or illness. On X, some users even invoke bogus medical terms or fake syndromes to brand trans people as delusional or diseased.
Essentially, they are saying: “Anyone who identifies as a gender different from their birth sex must be mentally ill or lying”. This is not true according to actual psychiatric consensus (being transgender was removed from the list of mental disorders by the World Health Organization in 2019, for example), but the myth persists in anti-trans circles.
By using the veneer of medicine (words like “delusional”, “psychosis”, or references to diagnostic criteria) these comments give the impression of authority. They frame prejudice as if it were clinical fact, which can be very persuasive to the casual reader. After all, if you’re told “the science says XYZ”, you might not realise that what is being cited is not mainstream science at all, but rather pseudo-science or misinformation.
This strategy has a clear purpose: it delegitimises trans people. If the public starts to believe that being trans is either a hoax or a sickness, then it becomes easier to argue that trans people should not be fully accepted in society. It narrows the circle of who counts as a “real” man or woman, treating anyone outside that narrow definition as inferior or invalid. We saw comments suggesting that transwomen should be excluded from women’s sports, women’s shelters, or even jobs, on the alleged grounds of “health” or “truth.” On X, this often played out in long threads where people cherry-picked studies or medical policies to justify discrimination (like claiming allowing a transwoman in a women’s locker room is dangerous based on some misinterpreted statistic). On TikTok, the same idea might appear in a meme or a quick comment like “Facts don’t care about your feelings”, implying that excluding trans folks is just an objective fact of life.
It is important to recognise that this is not a genuine scientific debate, it’s a rhetorical tactic. As scientists have noted, when people present biased beliefs as “neutral, fact-based truth”, they’re using what philosopher Michel Foucault called power/knowledge: leveraging the authority of “knowledge” (in this case, scientific-sounding claims) to exert power over a marginalised group. Historically, we’ve seen this before. For decades, homosexuality was pathologised by those in power. This “medical truth” was cited to enforce laws and social norms that harmed gay people. We now know that was junk science rooted in prejudice. The same pattern is repeating with trans people. As one analysis put it, labelling a group as biologically or mentally defective has long been a way to justify excluding or controlling them. Today’s anti-trans activists recycle that old repertoire by branding transwomen as inherently flawed or dangerous, they make discriminatory policies (like banning trans healthcare or excluding trans folk from public life) seem not only acceptable but somehow inevitable, “for society’s own good”.
Let’s be clear: science and medicine do not support these anti-trans narratives. Major medical organisations worldwide (such as the World Health Organisation, American Psychological Association, American Psychiatric Association) affirm that transgender identities are real and valid, and they reject the notion that trans people are “mentally ill” for being trans. But in the online arena of social media, a determined minority twists scientific language to sound convincing. The takeaway is that we should be wary when we see “it’s just biology” or “scientific fact” being used to shut down a discussion. Often, it’s not unbiased fact at all, but a form of storytelling that uses the language of science to give cover to bias.
Understanding this helps us respond! We can point to actual science (for instance, studies showing that affirming trans people’s identities leads to better mental health outcomes, or that gender is not as binary as we learned in school). We can remember that calling something “common sense” or “factual” does not automatically make it true. If anything, whenever someone insists that empathy or inclusion contradicts “hard facts”, it is worth interrogating whether the so-called “facts” are really facts at all. In many cases, you will find that the “facts” are being selectively presented or completely fabricated to justify prejudice.
3. Conditional Acceptance & Passing Imperatives
The third theme we observed is a more insidious form of bias: the conditional acceptance of trans people based on whether they “pass” as the gender with which they identify. “Passing” means being perceived by others as that gender without question. For example, a transgender woman who passes is often read by others as a woman at first glance (through her voice, appearance, and presentation), because she embodies the stereotypical traits society associates with biological females. In other words, she is recognised as aligning with the socially constructed markers of womanhood, traits that have been naturalised as belonging to cisgender women, and this alignment affords her a degree of conditional acceptance. In many online comments, people essentially said: “I have no problem with trans people but only if they look and act exactly like ‘real’ men or women. If they don’t, then I won’t accept them”.
At first glance, this comment might read as a practical observation about how people respond to appearances, but it ultimately reinforces a harmful logic. By suggesting that recognition depends on conforming to stereotypical gender cues, it normalises the idea that acceptance is contingent on passing. This framing places the burden of legitimacy on trans people instead of questioning the narrow standards imposed by society, reducing acceptance to something conditional rather than genuine. In effect, it says that respect is not a given but something trans people must earn by conforming. One recurring sentiment went like this: ‘Sure, I’ll respect your gender, but only if I can’t tell that you’re trans. The moment I can tell—if you don’t “pass” well enough—then you’re just delusional.’ Consider what this means for trans individuals. They are being told to erase any trace of their transgender identity and fit neatly into a narrow box or else face ridicule, rejection, or even violence. That is an incredibly high bar, and an unfair one. Many trans people, for reasons ranging from genetics to medical constraints to personal choice, may never ‘pass’. They should not have to, because no one should be forced to conform to someone else’s idea of an ideal man or woman in order to be treated with basic dignity.
Yet, some commenters explicitly drew this line. In our data, one person praised a particular transwoman’s “commitment” to living as ‘female’, implying she had successfully assimilated, while in the same breath calling other trans people “fetishists”, as though they were not truly genuine in their experience of womanhood.
This kind of talk divides the trans community into “the good ones” (who dress or look in a way that pleases critics) and “the bad ones” (who do not or cannot hide their trans status). It is a classic case of “respectability politics”, where only those who follow the majority’s norms get a measure of respect. The cruel irony is that even those who “follow the rules” of passing are living on sufferance because the moment they fail to meet expectations; they could be cast out of that “good graces” category.
Some comments did not even maintain a polite veneer. One user bluntly said to a trans person, “you do not pass”, and then attached a vicious slur, calling them a “pedophile”.
This extreme example shows how conditional acceptance can collapse instantly into outright hate. If a transwoman does not meet some stranger’s arbitrary standard of looking like a woman, she might not just lose acceptance; she might suddenly be dehumanised and accused of perversion. This is a terrifying double standard; imagine a cisgender woman being told that failing to look feminine enough makes her a sexual predator! This is not some hypothetical reality as recent news shows that cisgender women who “don’t look feminine enough” can face similar policing. An 18-year-old cisgender teenager was followed into a restaurant restroom by a waiter who pounded on her stall and forced her to unzip her sweatshirt and show her chest to “prove” she was a woman. Two cis women attending a hotel event were ordered out after a security guard demanded one of them present ID to “prove” she was a biological female inside the women’s restroom. A 19-year-old cis woman in a public restroom was confronted by deputies shining flashlights into her stall with officers telling her she “looked like a man” and forced her to prove her gender by partially uncovering herself. These cases underline that strict gender policing can ensnare any woman who fails to fit narrow feminine stereotypes, not just transwomen.
The broader effect of these “passing” demands is a form of social control. It sends a message to trans people: “Disappear into ‘normalcy’ or else”! It pressures them to pursue possibly expensive, stressful, or unwanted measures (like surgeries, voice training, hyper-vigilant grooming) just to be treated decently. It also invalidates those who cannot or will not conform (like non-binary people or trans folks who choose not to medically transition, or who transition later in life, and might always have some visible traits of their assigned sex at birth). They are essentially told, “You will never be accepted, no matter what, unless you somehow become invisible”. This is not acceptance; it’s oppression by another name.
Furthermore, when people enforce these passing rules, they are asserting that cisgender people are the ultimate judges of gender identity. It keeps the power in the hands of those who say, “We will tell you if you’re woman enough for us”. It reduces trans identity, and in fact, womanhood, even for cis women, to a performance for others’ approval, rather than a personal truth. Living under such scrutiny is mentally and emotionally exhausting. Research shows that conditional belonging (knowing that people will only accept you if you fit their mould) is associated with higher stress and worse mental health outcomes. Indeed, many trans people report anxiety about their appearance and fear of public harassment, which is exacerbated by these harsh attitudes in society.
It is also worth noting that transphobic beliefs themselves can be harmful to the believer’s wellbeing. Constantly policing others’ gender and living in fear of people who do not conform can create a mindset dominated by anger and anxiety. Psychologists have observed that harbouring intense hatred or anger is linked to stress-related health issues and mental distress. In other words, this rigid, fearful way of viewing the world hurts everyone. It obviously hurts trans people by denying them humanity unless they meet a strict standard, but it also traps those who hold these beliefs in a state of constant suspicion and negativity.
To summarise this theme, the “conditional acceptance” narrative may sound more moderate than outright hate, but it is deeply harmful. It boils down to: “You can exist, but only on my terms”. Such a stance is unacceptable when we think of other scenarios. For example, telling a woman: “I respect women, but only if they act like proper ladies, otherwise they’re nasty”, is clearly sexist. Similarly, telling trans people: “I respect you, but only if you convince me you’re really cis” is simply transphobia wrapped in a flimsy guise of reasonableness. True acceptance means accepting people as they are, not as we would prefer them to be. A society that requires some of its members to constantly prove they are “normal enough” is not a fair or healthy society. We should challenge this conditional mindset and recognise it for what it is, which is another technique to exclude and marginalise a group of people under the pretence of setting “reasonable” standards.
Conclusion
All together, these three themes (safety panic, “biology” claims, and passing pressures) form a kind of pipeline of exclusion. One stage flows into the next. It often begins with fear: portray trans people as an urgent threat (for example, “women are in danger now”). Next, it adds a layer of false logic: assert that science or common sense backs this fear (“it’s just the facts that they are men”). Finally, it encourages everyday people to act on those beliefs, from nasty comments and harassment to demanding laws that marginalise trans folks (“we must keep them out until they prove themselves”). By the end of this pipeline, what started as a few “concerned remarks” can fuel a whole environment where trans people are stigmatised and shut out, and importantly, where many bystanders feel justified or even duty-bound to join in that exclusion. Each step makes the next one seem normal and appropriate. A fearful post on Facebook makes a law-and-order tweet on X seem reasonable. That, in turn, makes a confrontational TikTok comment (“you shouldn’t be here, you’re a man”) seem justified. In this discursive chain reaction, hate becomes “just the way things are”.
Why does this matter for everyone? Because these are not just idle opinions online; they change who gets to participate in public life. When trans voices are drowned out or intimidated into silence, we all lose a piece of our open dialogue. A democratic society relies on everyone being able to speak and be heard without fear. The patterns we’ve identified (framing prejudice as protection, bias as truth, acceptance as conditional) undermine that principle. They create a chilling effect where many trans people (and their allies) back away from conversations, especially online, because they know any visibility might trigger a deluge of “reasonable” hate. It conscripts even those who might otherwise be neutral or uninvolved. For example, someone who sees a bunch of “laugh react” emojis or mocking comments on a transwoman’s post might conclude it is socially acceptable to pile on. Over time, this pipeline does not just reflect public opinion, it shapes it, pushing what should be unacceptable (like open discrimination) into the realm of acceptable “debate”.
Social media platforms play a pivotal role here. Their policies and algorithms can either accelerate this pipeline or interrupt it. Right now, much of the content we have discussed flies under the radar of moderation because it does not always use slurs or explicit hate speech. It is the “borderline” content that platforms struggle with. But as experts have argued, doing nothing is not a neutral stance. If platforms let these borderline narratives spread unchecked, they essentially become partners in the spread of hate. In contrast, if they proactively intervene (by tweaking algorithms, promoting authoritative information, down-ranking or fact-checking false “science” claims, and enforcing rules against harassment consistently) they can slow the pipeline and make space for genuine dialogue. Intervention might look like reminding users of actual facts when certain myths (like the bathroom predator trope) go viral or providing context and counter-discourse tools to those who want to speak up in support of trans people. It could also mean community guidelines that treat persistent misgendering or borderline hateful tropes as actionable, since we know their cumulative effect is silencing and harmful.
Ultimately, the choice is ours and it is urgent. We can allow fear and misinformation to dominate our public sphere, or we can challenge these “reasonable” hate narratives before they further entrench. For tech companies and community leaders, that means taking a stand and innovating new ways to identify and defuse disguised hate. For everyday folks, it can mean a bit of self-reflection and courage, questioning scary claims when we hear them, seeking out factual information (like the studies showing trans-inclusive policies are safe), and listening to trans people’s perspectives rather than dismissing them. The good news is that once people recognise the pattern, once you see that appeals to “safety”, “science”, or “standards” are being misused to justify bigotry, it becomes much easier to call it out! We can replace suspicion with understanding, and fear with facts and empathy.
Trans people, like anyone, deserve to participate in society without jumping through unjust hoops or facing hostility masked as concern. Ensuring that is not just about protecting one group; it is about upholding values of fairness, truth, and civility for all of us. If we want online spaces (and offline spaces) that are genuinely open and respectful, we must recognise and disrupt this pipeline of exclusion. It is not always as obvious as a slur or a ban: sometimes it is a joke, a concern-troll comment, or a policy “debate”. But as this briefing shown, those can be just as damaging in the long run. By shedding light on how “reasonable” hate works, we take the first step toward dismantling it. The path forward is clear, namely, confront these narratives with knowledge and compassion at every turn. The time to act is now, before more ground is lost to fear. The choice is clear and urgent.