On September 18 and 19, 2025, two major stories from the UK and France collided in the public consciousness, laying bare the raw nerves at the heart of debates over gender, identity, and the weaponization of womanhood. In the UK, the Good Law Project published a forceful rejection of the narrative that trans people pose a threat to women, a myth that has gained traction in the wake of a controversial Supreme Court decision. Across the Channel, Brigitte Macron, wife of French President Emmanuel Macron, prepared to present photographic and 'scientific' evidence to prove she is a woman in a high-profile defamation case against political commentator Candace Owens. Together, these stories reveal the extraordinary—and often absurd—lengths to which women and trans people are forced to go to defend their identities in a world increasingly shaped by fear, misinformation, and the politics of division.
According to the Good Law Project, the UK’s Supreme Court ruling earlier in 2025 defined "woman" by biological sex for the purposes of the Equality Act 2010. Far from clarifying matters, the decision has left trans people more exposed to prejudice and discrimination than ever before. The ruling, the Project argues, has emboldened those who would weaponize the language of women’s safety to scapegoat a tiny, marginalized community already facing disproportionate harm. Notably, trans people make up less than 1% of the UK population, yet they are over four times more likely than cisgender people to be victims of violent crime—including rape and assault. Research cited by the Good Law Project indicates that between 62% and 73% of trans people have experienced harassment or violence because of their gender identity.
These numbers are not mere statistics—they represent a daily reality of fear and vulnerability for trans people. In cases of domestic abuse against trans individuals, 81% of perpetrators are men. The pattern is grimly familiar for cisgender women: in the UK, a woman is killed by a man every three days, and one in four women has experienced domestic abuse. From 2020 to 2022, men were suspects in 241 out of 249 domestic female homicide cases, and men account for 98% of adults prosecuted for sexual offenses in the UK. The Good Law Project points out that, set against this backdrop, the manufactured fear of trans people is not only unfounded but dangerously distracts from the real threat: pervasive male violence.
In this climate, the Not In Our Name (NION) Women collective—supported by the Good Law Project—has emerged as a powerful voice. Composed of cisgender women, NION Women are refusing to let their identity be weaponized to justify discrimination against trans people. Their message is clear: when the language of women’s safety is used to exclude trans people, it is not about safety at all. Instead, it becomes a tool for scapegoating and marginalization. The collective is calling on women everywhere to join them in pushing back against this narrative, insisting that the real fight should be against male violence, not against a tiny minority already at risk.
Meanwhile, in France, the surreal spectacle unfolding around Brigitte Macron underscores the global reach of these anxieties. As reported by Metro on September 18, 2025, Brigitte Macron is preparing to present photographic and 'scientific' evidence to prove her womanhood in court. The case stems from a rumor, first circulated in 2021 by two French YouTubers, that claimed Macron was "a man." Though she sued and initially won in 2024, the ruling was overturned on appeal in 2025 under the banner of freedom of expression. Political commentator Candace Owens has since amplified the claim, prompting the Macrons to return to court.
Jess Austin, Metro's first-person and opinion editor, doesn't mince words about the absurdity of the situation. "It says everything about the state of the world that Brigitte Macron is being forced to prove her womanhood in court," Austin writes, questioning what counts as 'scientific' evidence—an ultrasound? A chromosome test? A graphic photo of childbirth? The entire ordeal, Austin argues, speaks to a dystopian moment in public discourse, where women must provide medical or photographic proof of their gender identity simply to defend themselves against baseless slander.
The case, Austin notes, sets a disturbing precedent. If women now have to provide evidence of their womanhood, what does that say about the broader state of gender politics? The obsession with policing women’s bodies and identities is not new, but the scale and intensity have reached new heights. Public figures like Michelle Obama have faced similar attacks, with internet sleuths dissecting their bodies in search of 'evidence' to support transphobic rumors. The result, Austin observes, is a grotesque reality TV show, with women subjected to endless scrutiny over their hips, jawlines, and hands.
Even President Emmanuel Macron has weighed in, framing the case as a matter of defending his "honour." Austin asks pointedly: What does that mean? Is it dishonorable to be married to a trans woman? Does it imply that LGBTQ+ people are somehow shameful? The implications are hard to ignore: the very act of defending one's womanhood in court reinforces the notion that being trans—or being accused of being trans—is something to be ashamed of, a slur rather than a simple fact of identity.
For Austin, and for many others who have faced similar abuse, the experience is more than theoretical. "I personally know what it’s like to face constant attempts at humiliation and abuse simply for being a trans person. It is cruel, it chips away at you, and it never really stops." In this context, Brigitte Macron’s decision to fight back is understandable, but even a legal victory cannot undo the damage done by public humiliation and the relentless churn of online rumor-mongering.
Both the Good Law Project’s campaign in the UK and the Macron case in France point to a disturbing trend: anti-trans rhetoric harms not just trans people, but all women. As patriarchal standards of 'real' womanhood become more rigid and policed, no one is safe from suspicion or attack. The war on women’s identities, fuelled by spite and dehumanization, grinds on with no clear end in sight.
In the end, the stories unfolding in courtrooms and public forums across Europe are not just about individual grievances or isolated incidents. They are about the broader struggle to define—and defend—what it means to be a woman in a world where identity is endlessly scrutinized, contested, and politicized. As the Not In Our Name Women collective urges, it is time to say "not in our name" to the discrimination and exclusion of trans people, and to demand an end to the use of women’s safety as a cover for hate. Only by confronting the real sources of violence and division can society hope to move forward.
