With the Paralympic Games kicking off this week, all eyes are on Valentina Petrillo, a trans woman set to compete in athletics.
Unlike the Olympics this summer, which had no trans women competing, Petrillo’s presence is likely to spark yet another media storm. The relentless scrutiny that follows trans athletes is no secret, and Petrillo’s participation is expected to bring the kind of hostility that Algerian boxer Imane Khelif faced earlier this summer—fuelled by disinformation and weaponised transphobia.
Khelif was disqualified from the Women’s World Championships by the IBA after they falsely claimed her natural testosterone levels were too high. What followed at the Paris Olympics was an ugly campaign of online abuse, fuelled by a mix of misinformation and weaponised anti-trans rhetoric. Interestingly, most of Khelif’s defenders rallied around her with one key line: “she was born a woman.” This defence was as much about protecting Khelif as it was about drawing a line—implying that if she hadn’t been assigned female at birth, the vitriol might have been justified. That kind of conditional support, which is less about solidarity and more about maintaining a narrow view of gender, will now be tested as Petrillo takes to the track.
Will those who rushed to defend Khelif because “she is a woman” also extend that same support to Petrillo? Or will many of them suddenly find themselves withdrawing into the shadows, citing “genuine concerns” about fairness and competition—concerns many seem determined to cling to even when faced with evidence that disproves them? These concerns are often little more than a smokescreen for prejudice, selectively applied whenever it’s convenient. The reality is that many of these supposed allies are not willing to set aside their biases, even when shown that their fears are unfounded.
Khelif’s case revealed how quickly misinformation can be spread and amplified by influential figures. As she seeks justice with a formal complaint in France against those who led the smear campaign, voices like JK Rowling continue to fan the flames of divisiveness. After a brief hiatus, Rowling returned to Twitter, doubling down by sharing an article that suggested Khelif should “prove” her womanhood with a DNA test. There’s no room for self-reflection, no willingness to adjust the narrative as new facts emerge. For Rowling and those like her, refusing to reconsider their stance, even when presented with clear evidence, seems to have become a badge of honour—a commitment to remaining deliberately ignorant, no matter the consequences.
Meanwhile, the familiar narrative around trans athletes persists: they are “stealing” opportunities and dreams from “real” women. This argument, built on fear and falsehoods, paints every win by a trans athlete as a loss for a cis woman, ignoring the complexities and nuances that make up the world of competitive sport. The empathy shown is narrow, reserved only for those who conform to a certain ideal of womanhood, while the aspirations of trans women like Petrillo are dismissed out of hand.
But what about the dreams of trans athletes? Are they not allowed to dream too? Petrillo’s journey, like any elite athlete’s, is a testament to hard work, resilience, and overcoming obstacles. Yet, because her identity challenges rigid gender norms, her ambitions are viewed as somehow less valid. The narrative implies that her pursuit of excellence is inauthentic, simply because it doesn’t fit within traditional definitions of femininity.
This denial of trans athletes’ right to compete and dream speaks to a much deeper issue: whose dreams are deemed legitimate and worthy of defending? When people argue that trans women are “stealing” spots from “real” women, they conveniently ignore the reality that trans women, like Petrillo, face unique struggles and barriers just to get to the starting line. The suggestion that only certain dreams matter betrays the core values of sport—values like fairness, inclusion, and respect for all who strive to achieve greatness.
The question now is whether those who so loudly defended Khelif will stand up for Petrillo, or whether they will retreat behind their “genuine concerns,” unwilling to challenge their own biases.
This moment is a test of whether their support for fairness and justice is truly unconditional, or whether it’s contingent on who is deemed worthy of that defence.
True solidarity shouldn’t be selective; it must extend to all athletes, regardless of whether they fit neatly into someone’s preconceived notions. Anything less is not about protecting sport but about maintaining exclusion and bigotry dressed up as concern.
Further reading:
- On JK Rowling’s stance and influence in anti-trans debates:
- On the challenges faced by trans athletes and the barriers they encounter:
- On the Paris Olympics and Khelif’s case:
