IGF CultureWatch

Clay Aiken is gay. This is not news.

Lindsay Lohan might be gay, too. (Her answer during a radio interview was noncommittal enough to leave room for "clarifications" later.) Big yawn.

You know what would be news? It would be news to learn that a well-known pop star called People magazine to say "I'm gay!" and People responded with a "So what?" I long for the day when a star's coming out is not worthy of magazine space, much less a cover story.

We have not yet reached that day.

Clay Aiken's coming out was about as surprising as Elton John's, only less courageous. (Remember that John came out twenty years ago, at the height of the AIDS crisis, when gay sex was still illegal in many parts of this country.) For years certain bloggers have referred to Aiken as "Gayken," a practice as otiose as it is childish. An online poll revealed that 96 percent of respondents were not surprised by his announcement.

The other 4 percent, presumably, also insist that Liberace was merely "artistic."

I certainly don't mean to criticize Aiken for his honesty, and I can't blame him for wanting to capitalize on it with a cover story. I have no idea what People paid him for the scoop, if anything, but I suspect he got more than I did when I came out in an op-ed in my college paper. (I think they gave me a coupon for a free pizza.)

Incidentally, that was in 1989, a year after Elton John came out as gay. It was harder then, no doubt because so few public figures had done it.

Aiken's coming out adds to that growing list of public figures, and for that we should be thankful. There are interesting dimensions to his story, including his identifying as a born-again Christian and his generally wholesome image. (My late grandmother, like many grandmothers, adored him on American Idol.)

Some might hope that his revelation will reach a demographic not otherwise friendly to gay issues, reminding them that we truly are everywhere. I'm skeptical. Aiken just had a child out of wedlock, via artificial insemination, with a much older female friend. His fellow born-again Christians will likely see him less as a role-model than as a cautionary tale.

So if progressives shrug and traditionalists scold, what can Aiken's coming out teach us? Two things, I think.

First, that if you're going to use the "My sexual orientation is private and none of your business" line, as Aiken did repeatedly, then don't be surprised if few care when you announce your gayness on the cover of People.

Aiken is hardly alone in exploiting the ambiguity of the claim that sexual orientation is "private." Private in the sense of being deeply personal and deserving of non-interference? Absolutely. Private in the sense of being secret? Only if you insist on making it so.

That was Aiken's right, of course. But it was also our right to notice his doing it. It was not our right to nag him about it-he was young, and still figuring it all out-but it was our right to refuse to go along with treating gayness as somehow unspeakable. Aiken's story underscores how the convention of the closet is crumbling. This is progress.

The second thing his coming out teaches us is that while simple honesty is good, it is no longer enough. It may be enough (for now) to get you on the cover of People, but it's not enough, I'll wager, to get readers rushing to the newsstands.

I'm surprised, frankly, that it's still enough to get you on the cover of People-even if you are the most famous American Idol runner-up ever (my grandmother went to her grave insisting that Ruben had robbed him of the rightful title) and you have a cute baby in an unconventional family arrangement. I don't expect People to be The Economist, but I do expect something fresher and more stimulating than "Yes, I'm Gay."

And so let me close with a plea to our LGBT organizations. For the love of Jehovah, don't invite Aiken to headline fundraising dinners or pride events unless and until he actually does something more to advance gay rights. "Yes, I'm Gay" may be enough to impress People. It should no longer be enough to impress us.

And that, too, is progress.

When the Log Cabin Republicans (LCR) recently endorsed John McCain for president the usual suspects bitterly denounced them. Treason! Delusional! Selfish! Self-hating! These criticisms misunderstand Log Cabin's basic mission. In the context of that mission, LCR's endorsement was sensible.

As usual when I write about Log Cabin, I should first explain my own history with the group. Back in the mid-1990s, I was president of the group's Texas chapter. I also served briefly on LCR's national board of directors in the late 1990s. Although I have many friends in LCR, I've had no role in the organization for eight years.

Critics of the endorsement basically argue as follows: (1) LCR is a gay-rights group. (2) Gay-rights groups should endorse the candidate who's better on gay rights. (3) McCain is worse on gay issues than Barack Obama. (4) Conclusion: LCR should not have endorsed McCain.

What explains LCR's endorsement in the face of this simple logic? LCR's critics offer several explanations.

Some say that Log Cabin must simply be ignorant of the candidates' stands on a familiar list of issues, like employment-discrimination protection and the military's gay exclusion. But LCR's directors and members are very well informed on these and other political issues.

Other critics say that LCR members must be self-hating. This charge is silly and uninformed. LCR recognizes, and actively opposes, the anti-gay tendencies in the GOP.

Finally, some critics conclude that LCR's members must care more about their own pocketbooks, preferring tax cuts over their own (or others') civil rights. Many label this selfishness or, worse, a betrayal of gay rights.

Some LCR members may indeed be stereotypically selfish Republicans - - just as some gay liberals are soft-headed and hopelessly naive. But the fairer description is that they simply believe libertarian or conservative positions on economic and foreign-policy matters better serve the public interest. That's what makes them Republicans, after all.

There is also irony in this criticism. It typically comes from left-leaning activists who have been counseling us for years that gay rights, narrowly conceived, are not the only thing that matters. LCR has taken this counsel to heart and, as a frankly partisan organization (unlike the Human Rights Campaign), it must consider its party's positions on non-gay matters.

The deeper problem is that LCR's critics fundamentally misconceive the organization's mission. Critics analyze the endorsement through a standard civil-rights lens. A gay-rights group should look at the candidates, they reason, and choose the candidate who's "better" today solely on the basis of gay rights.

This kind of analysis would almost always mean endorsing a Democrat over a Republican opponent. Fine, say the critics.

But the problem is that it leaves no room for a gay Republican organization working from within the party to improve it on gay issues while retaining its GOP credentials. Having some credibility as a Republican group is essential to LCR's mission. Otherwise, it's just a garden-variety gay-rights group.

Quite a few people think it's delusional to imagine that a few thousand gay Republicans are likely to have any effect on today's GOP, which is dependent on a "base" intensely hostile to gay equality. There's some truth in this. If the Republican Party is to change on gay issues, the primary reason will be huge shifts in the culture for which no single organization can claim credit.

But there is some value in having a group of openly gay people within the party embracing its basic philosophy while simultaneously endorsing gay equality. Such a group can have a uniquely positive impact given its special niche in the political system. These gay GOP activists literally embody the future Republican Party we must have if gay equality is to survive shifting electoral allegiances.

LCR operates on the principle that a political party that genuinely embraces small government and individual rights would be a good thing for everybody, including gay people. It endorses candidates based on long-term considerations about how to advance gay equality within a conservative political party.

This does not mean LCR should support all Republican candidates. However, the question for LCR is not reducible to weighing the candidates' paper positions on gay rights. The question is whether, given the context, including the overall tone of the campaign and the salience of gay issues within that campaign, the Republican candidate meets a minimum threshold of respect for the rights and dignity of gay Americans.

In 2004, George W. Bush did not meet that test after he backed an anti-gay federal marriage amendment that would have ended the possibility of gay marriage anywhere in the country for decades.

McCain, whatever his shortcomings, loudly and articulately opposed that amendment. His opposition was maintained at considerable political cost to himself. It takes nothing away from his courage to observe that he did so in defense of federalism, rather than in defense of gay marriage itself. Many Republicans and Democrats were ready, in the hothouse of that time, to ditch federalism in order to appease religious conservatives and others opposed to gay marriage.

McCain's opposition gave political cover to other Republicans and even Democrats to oppose the amendment. Thus was removed a dagger aimed at the infant heart of the gay-marriage movement.

To refuse to endorse him after that singular act, especially when he is famously alien to the party's religious conservatives (despite his recent pandering to them), would have been practically to forfeit any role for LCR within the GOP. And that would have been no favor to gay Americans.

I've recently discovered something about myself: I'm not a partisan.

I thought I was. I'm a stalwart Democrat. I have strong opinions.

But even though there are issues I feel strongly about - gay civil rights, universal health care, abortion rights, the role of government in society - I tend to believe that a person's political party doesn't define them as a person.

And that means that a person's political party doesn't necessarily reveal their positions on political issues.

Sometimes they do.

In the way that you can generally guess that if someone is gay they are also a Democrat, you can guess that if someone is a Republican they are more likely to be socially conservative.

The company we keep does define who we are, to a limited extent. After all, who among us hasn't found that our views on some issues were influenced by the political party we choose to support?

But not all gay people are Democrats (hence the Log Cabin Republicans), not all Republicans are socially conservative, and not all Democrats believe in gay civil rights.

Americans like labels.

I'm thinking about this because I work in a mostly gay office, where almost everyone follows politics closely and has strong opinions.

Last week, during the Republican National Convention, many of my colleagues dropped by to ask me what I thought of the speeches, what I thought of Sarah Palin, what I thought of John McCain.

And one of them said: "I just don't understand the Log Cabin Republicans. How can someone be both gay and Republican?" Someone else, commenting on a news story on the web, compared gay Republicans to Jewish people who worked for the Nazis.

I understand the feeling here.

Many Republicans have proven themselves to not be friends on our issues. John McCain, for example, has never voted for any gay rights bill. Sarah Palin's church is one that tries to convince gay people that they can become ex-gay - and that this would be healthier, more fulfilling and more pleasing to God.

But just because some Republicans feel this way, and because the party as a whole does not accept the fight for gay civil rights as part of its platform, doesn't mean that Republicans are de facto evil. Republicans are not, in fact, Nazis, and it is offensive to call them so.

I grew up with Republicans. My mother, my father, most of my neighbors, the parents of my friends - pretty much all Republican. Only a few of my high school teachers admitted to being Democrats.

I myself thought I was a Republican until just before my 18th birthday, when I registered as a Democrat.

Most Republicans, I think, want what most Democrats want: a country that is prosperous, with people who are able to work, own homes and have families. A country where everyone has an equal shot at the future they choose for themselves. A democracy where we can criticize the government, make fun of our president, and choose the leaders who best represent us.

Republicans and Democrats just have different visions for how you get to that place. As for socially conservative issues - well, the Log Cabin Republicans are clearly on the right side of those. It's not an oxymoron to be a socially liberal Republican. Think Abraham Lincoln. Or think of my mother, now canvassing for Obama because it makes her sick to think of her party not allowing her daughter to marry.

There are times when it is worth staying in a party or a city or a country in order to help it move forward.

If I had to define myself politically, I'd say I was a pragmatic centrist. I believe that to advance our civil rights, we need to work with everyone who will work with us. I believe that we need visionary idealists to set goals that are high above us and far away, but that change itself is often slow and incremental. Large successes are built on a stepladder of smaller ones.

Republicans are not the enemy. They are not crazy and misguided by definition, though there are crazy, misguided Republicans just as certainly as there are crazy, misguided Democrats.

Republicans are just members of a party we have not converted yet. But we will never convert them to the support of gay civil rights if we dismiss everything they say as being idiotic and morally wrong.

No, Republicans are not the enemy. They are simply Republicans. They comprise about half the country. And if we want our rights, we need to work with them to show them why they should want our rights, too.

I'm sick of the phony reasons some gay people give for opposing Barack Obama. I am not talking about my friends in Log Cabin Republicans, who prefer John McCain for broader ideological reasons. I am talking about angry Hillary Clinton supporters.

For example, Sirius OutQ talk-radio host Larry Flick, still upset that Clinton had not won the Democratic nomination, slammed Obama on Aug. 28 for opposing same-sex marriage. Yet Clinton holds the same position on marriage - except that she would only repeal Article 3 of the Defense of Marriage Act, whereas Obama favors total repeal.

Flick challenged Sirius Left host Mark Thompson, an African American minister and activist with whom I've worked for years, on his support for Obama. Flick expressed outrage that Obama accepted help from "blatant, aggressive homophobes" Donnie McClurkin and Illinois state Sen. James Meeks. Yet Clinton enjoyed support from homophobic Bishop Eddie Long of Lithonia, Ga., and from former D.C. City Council member Vincent Orange, who as a mayoral candidate in 2006 called his opponents morally unfit for supporting marriage equality.

Flick said Obama "has not voted in favor of these issues on gay rights in any fashion." In fact, the Human Rights Campaign's Congressional Scorecard for the 109th Congress shows that Clinton and Obama had identical LGBT voting records and earned an HRC score of 89. This included, among other things, voting against the Federal Marriage Amendment. I have not yet seen the scorecard for the 110th, but the Congressional Record shows that in 2007, Clinton and Obama were co-introducers of the transgender-inclusive Hate Crimes Prevention Act - later incorporated into the National Defense Authorization Act - and voted "aye" in a key cloture vote.

Flick acknowledged that he would probably vote for Obama given the alternatives, but "I won't allow any of his people to come on my show." He even claimed that Democratic Party leaders decided a year ago to back Obama for the nomination because they never thought Hillary could win. This conspiracy mongering ignores the fact that the Clintons were a dominant force in the party while Obama was given little chance. During the primaries, Clinton landed her share of blows, as shown by McCain's use of them in his commercials. Clinton and Obama have reconciled, and she has hit the campaign trail for him. As Thompson suggested, her supporters should consider the larger stakes and not let the election be reduced to a clash of personalities.

Flick repeatedly said to Thompson, "You're not a gay man, you don't understand." Thompson was admirably restrained. He stated that blacks and gays share a "mutual struggle," and that comparing oppressions was a mistake. He noted that he himself has differences with Obama, "but we would be better off holding a President Obama accountable than a President McCain." Thompson also sang the praises of Clinton, describing the exhilarating moment during the roll call when she moved to nominate Obama by acclamation. He said it was time to move forward together: "Today is bigger than him."

We should heed Thompson's advice. McCain's eagerness to distract voters from the issues is evident in his vice-presidential choice of Alaska Gov. Sarah Palin, who opposes Clinton on nearly every issue. Former Hewlett-Packard Chairman and CEO Carly Fiorina, in response to journalistic scrutiny of Palin, stated, "The Republican Party will not stand by while Sarah Palin is subjected to sexist attacks."

Oh, really? Ten years ago, McCain joked, "Why is Chelsea Clinton so ugly? Because her father is Janet Reno." How does a man who could say such a thing about a political opponent's teenage daughter dare have his surrogates cry sexism over press examination of his running mate's qualifications - or declare family matters off-limits, even as he parades the family in question before the cameras? How is an out-of-wedlock pregnancy nobody's business, while it's okay to accuse gay people of undermining families? How in the world does this show McCain putting his country ahead of his political ambition?

Our intelligence is repeatedly insulted as GOP wordmeisters put just about anything on the telerompter that will get a roar from the crowd. Given the recent tone of McCain's campaign, his promise to bring the country together is as credible as President Bush's old line, "I'm a uniter, not a divider."

As Obama said on Sept. 6, "They must think you're stupid." Prove them wrong.