Some people are religious. Get over it!

The proposed "ex-gay" bus advert was offensive, but gay Christians face a genuine dilemma.

Boris Johnson stepped in yesterday to stop the "battle of the buses", banning a campaign by the Core Issue Trust -- which promotes controversial therapies designed to turn gay people straight  -- and the evangelical pressure group Anglican Mainstream. The decision is likely to increase feelings of persecution and marginalisation among a minority of traditionally-minded, and increasingly assertive, Christians. 

Johnson told the Guardian that his London was "intolerant of intolerance". The proposed slogan ("Not gay! Ex-gay, Post-gay and proud. Get over it!"), whatever its intention, was at least open to interpretation as an assertion of crude homophobia, or at least of heteronormative triumphalism.  It was intended, however, as a direct riposte to similar-looking advertisements being run by Stonewall with the slogan "Some people are gay. Get over it!" -- a campaign that implicitly targets opponents of gay marriage as reactionary bigots unable to come to terms with the modern world.

Some bigots may, indeed, hide behind religion.  Yet Stonewall's slogan, it strikes, me, misses an important point, which is that some people, who are gay, cannot "get over it" that easily.  A devout religious believer, who belongs to a tradition that says firmly that homosexuality is wrong, but who feels a strong inclination towards members of the same sex, is faced with an agonising dilemma.  Demands to "get over it", while not directly aimed at such people, can easily come across as insensitive and bullying.

Say you're a young gay Catholic.  The Pope has said, quite firmly, that homosexuality is "intrinsically disordered" and represents an "inclination towards an intrinsic moral evil".  Well then, ignore the Pope: many Catholics do, after all, when it comes to birth control, and some gay Catholics will be comfortable with that option.  But not all, because obedience to church teaching is, for many Catholics, a crucial dimension of their faith.  At the very least, so long as Catholic teaching remains what it is (and there's no evidence of any change on the horizon) many gay Catholics will feel conflicted.

Or say you're a Bible-believing Evangelical, and your reading of scripture tells you that homosexual practices are an abomination unto the Lord.  That isn't the only way to interpret the Bible, of course, and some gay Christians are fortunate enough to belong to churches that are welcoming of their sexuality.  But some of the Biblical verses that speak about same-sex sex are pretty plain, to say the least.

And of course commitment to a religious faith involves more than just intellectual assent to a set of belief-propositions.  It involves heart and soul, family and community.  There may be partners and children involved, if a gay believer has already "chosen" to ignore their same-sex inclinations.  Leaving all these things is not just potentially traumatic, it may well be something that the believer, however painful their internal struggles with sexuality, is not willing to contemplate.  And yet their inner turmoil is damaging to themselves and to those around them.

There's no reliable evidence that the therapy being promoted by the Core Issues Trust is effective in changing people's inner sexual drive; there's some evidence that it has helped some people to suppress their gay feelings and to function more comfortably in heterosexual relationships.  And this may be enough.  Human sexuality is not fixed at birth.  It's also more fluid for some people than for others.  There's no doubt that there are, in fact, self-described "ex-gay" or "post-gay" Christians, many of whom do indeed claim to have been helped by these therapies.  The Rev Peter Ould is perhaps the most prominent British example.  He has written:

I’m post-gay because I chose to leave “gay” behind. I chose to no longer accept “gay” as an explanation of who I was and instead to begin a journey away from it. I chose to do so because I was convinced from the Scriptures that “gay” wasn’t a suitable way to describe myself, that it wasn’t a valid way for a Christian to establish identity.

Ould's choice to "leave gay behind" is not the same thing as choosing his sexuality.  Rather, he chose to prioritise his understanding of his faith over his sexual inclinations.  Or perhaps it would be better to say that he felt a strong inner conviction of his need to do so.  Because, as the law and society have increasingly come to recognise in recent years, religious identity is deeply rooted.  It is part of "who people are", how they relate to the world around them, how they conceive of themselves.

Of course, many people change their religion, abandon religion altogether or discover it for the first time.  But for many who make such a transition the process involves moments of existential crisis and a slow, difficult adjustment to a new way of life and a new set of social relationships.  The consumerist language of choice simply doesn't do it justice.

The fact is that neither faith nor sexuality are a "choice".   And some people are religious.  Get over it!

The ad, backed by the Core Issues Trust, which stated: "Not gay! Ex-gay, post-gay and proud. Get over it!"
Belief, disbelief and beyond belief
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The Brexit Beartraps, #2: Could dropping out of the open skies agreement cancel your holiday?

Flying to Europe is about to get a lot more difficult.

So what is it this time, eh? Brexit is going to wipe out every banana planet on the entire planet? Brexit will get the Last Night of the Proms cancelled? Brexit will bring about World War Three?

To be honest, I think we’re pretty well covered already on that last score, but no, this week it’s nothing so terrifying. It’s just that Brexit might get your holiday cancelled.

What are you blithering about now?

Well, only if you want to holiday in Europe, I suppose. If you’re going to Blackpool you’ll be fine. Or Pakistan, according to some people...

You’re making this up.

I’m honestly not, though we can’t entirely rule out the possibility somebody is. Last month Michael O’Leary, the Ryanair boss who attracts headlines the way certain other things attract flies, warned that, “There is a real prospect... that there are going to be no flights between the UK and Europe for a period of weeks, months beyond March 2019... We will be cancelling people’s holidays for summer of 2019.”

He’s just trying to block Brexit, the bloody saboteur.

Well, yes, he’s been quite explicit about that, and says we should just ignore the referendum result. Honestly, he’s so Remainiac he makes me look like Dan Hannan.

But he’s not wrong that there are issues: please fasten your seatbelt, and brace yourself for some turbulence.

Not so long ago, aviation was a very national sort of a business: many of the big airports were owned by nation states, and the airline industry was dominated by the state-backed national flag carriers (British Airways, Air France and so on). Since governments set airline regulations too, that meant those airlines were given all sorts of competitive advantages in their own country, and pretty much everyone faced barriers to entry in others. 

The EU changed all that. Since 1994, the European Single Aviation Market (ESAM) has allowed free movement of people and cargo; established common rules over safety, security, the environment and so on; and ensured fair competition between European airlines. It also means that an AOC – an Air Operator Certificate, the bit of paper an airline needs to fly – from any European country would be enough to operate in all of them. 

Do we really need all these acronyms?

No, alas, we need more of them. There’s also ECAA, the European Common Aviation Area – that’s the area ESAM covers; basically, ESAM is the aviation bit of the single market, and ECAA the aviation bit of the European Economic Area, or EEA. Then there’s ESAA, the European Aviation Safety Agency, which regulates, well, you can probably guess what it regulates to be honest.

All this may sound a bit dry-

It is.

-it is a bit dry, yes. But it’s also the thing that made it much easier to travel around Europe. It made the European aviation industry much more competitive, which is where the whole cheap flights thing came from.

In a speech last December, Andrew Haines, the boss of Britain’s Civil Aviation Authority said that, since 2000, the number of destinations served from UK airports has doubled; since 1993, fares have dropped by a third. Which is brilliant.

Brexit, though, means we’re probably going to have to pull out of these arrangements.

Stop talking Britain down.

Don’t tell me, tell Brexit secretary David Davis. To monitor and enforce all these international agreements, you need an international court system. That’s the European Court of Justice, which ministers have repeatedly made clear that we’re leaving.

So: last March, when Davis was asked by a select committee whether the open skies system would persist, he replied: “One would presume that would not apply to us” – although he promised he’d fight for a successor, which is very reassuring. 

We can always holiday elsewhere. 

Perhaps you can – O’Leary also claimed (I’m still not making this up) that a senior Brexit minister had told him that lost European airline traffic could be made up for through a bilateral agreement with Pakistan. Which seems a bit optimistic to me, but what do I know.

Intercontinental flights are still likely to be more difficult, though. Since 2007, flights between Europe and the US have operated under a separate open skies agreement, and leaving the EU means we’re we’re about to fall out of that, too.  

Surely we’ll just revert to whatever rules there were before.

Apparently not. Airlines for America – a trade body for... well, you can probably guess that, too – has pointed out that, if we do, there are no historic rules to fall back on: there’s no aviation equivalent of the WTO.

The claim that flights are going to just stop is definitely a worst case scenario: in practice, we can probably negotiate a bunch of new agreements. But we’re already negotiating a lot of other things, and we’re on a deadline, so we’re tight for time.

In fact, we’re really tight for time. Airlines for America has also argued that – because so many tickets are sold a year or more in advance – airlines really need a new deal in place by March 2018, if they’re to have faith they can keep flying. So it’s asking for aviation to be prioritised in negotiations.

The only problem is, we can’t negotiate anything else until the EU decides we’ve made enough progress on the divorce bill and the rights of EU nationals. And the clock’s ticking.

This is just remoaning. Brexit will set us free.

A little bit, maybe. CAA’s Haines has also said he believes “talk of significant retrenchment is very much over-stated, and Brexit offers potential opportunities in other areas”. Falling out of Europe means falling out of European ownership rules, so itcould bring foreign capital into the UK aviation industry (assuming anyone still wants to invest, of course). It would also mean more flexibility on “slot rules”, by which airports have to hand out landing times, and which are I gather a source of some contention at the moment.

But Haines also pointed out that the UK has been one of the most influential contributors to European aviation regulations: leaving the European system will mean we lose that influence. And let’s not forget that it was European law that gave passengers the right to redress when things go wrong: if you’ve ever had a refund after long delays, you’ve got the EU to thank.

So: the planes may not stop flying. But the UK will have less influence over the future of aviation; passengers might have fewer consumer rights; and while it’s not clear that Brexit will mean vastly fewer flights, it’s hard to see how it will mean more, so between that and the slide in sterling, prices are likely to rise, too.

It’s not that Brexit is inevitably going to mean disaster. It’s just that it’ll take a lot of effort for very little obvious reward. Which is becoming something of a theme.

Still, we’ll be free of those bureaucrats at the ECJ, won’t be?

This’ll be a great comfort when we’re all holidaying in Grimsby.

Jonn Elledge edits the New Statesman's sister site CityMetric, and writes for the NS about subjects including politics, history and Brexit. You can find him on Twitter or Facebook.