I was in the presence of evil
Being face-to-face in a room with Helen Webberley, the 'Gender GP', felt similar to the times I have interviewed rapists and murderers in prison. I was in the midst of a malign presence
When I received an e-mail from a podcaster contact of mine with the subject “debate Helen Webberley?” My first response was that this couldn’t be happening. Surely this rabid, extreme trans activist would not agree to a debate with someone who disagrees with every word she says on the topic? Why would she put herself in the firing line, I wondered?
But it was a genuine invitation. I said ‘yes’ and pinned down the date. It was perfect, because it was to take place in Liverpool around the time I needed to visit to do an interview, and I was already looking forward to seeing a good friend of mine for dinner prior to the debate. But of course, it didn’t work out that way: one of Webberley’s team (five strong - the podcaster told me that he had not once been in direct contact with her, but various of her “people”) subsequently informed us that the date was no longer suitable and suggested a single alternative.
The proposed new date could not have been more inconvenient. I was going to be in Yorkshire that weekend at a book festival, and would have to take two trains first thing in the morning to get to Liverpool, and then back for my evening event. But there was no way I was going to back down, suspecting it might be a ruse – a way for her to drop out without losing face. I agreed the date, went ahead and made the very complicated arrangements to get there, and sat back with dread.
Why did I agree to debate her? Since it became public that I was doing so, reactions have been split between two distinct camps. One set of people seemed to sit back, rubbing their hands with glee, posting popcorn and champagne emojis, and saying how much they were looking forward to this explosive entertainment. The other set asked earnestly how I could possibly give this woman the oxygen of publicity, claiming I would do more harm than good by legitimising her bonkers and dangerous views.
Helen Webberley, 2023
To the second camp, I would say that she obviously believes there is no such thing as bad publicity. As a journalist, I know this to be wrong. I knew she must have some product to sell, and I also knew that, in this instance, my considerable debating skills and knowledge on the topic would only help me so far – because it is impossible to debate with flat-earthers who belong to a cult, just as it would be impossible to debate religious fundamentalists.
Some people assumed I might be doing the debate in an attempt to get Webberley to change her mind. Not at all! There is absolutely no chance of that, and there’s also no way I would humiliate myself (or waste my time) trying for one second to appeal to their (non-existent) better judgement or even assume that their arguments are made in good faith. My faults are legion, but I’m not that stupid.
I wanted to hold her arguments up for scrutiny, to ask questions that she would have to at least attempt to answer. To expose her illogical lunatic rantings for what they are. To say things directly to her about the harm she has done, even if just for the children and their parents whose lives she has ruined. At no point did I think “What a pushover”. Somebody said to me, when I told her what I was doing, that it would be “like taking a flamethrower to tissue paper”. In fact the dread in the pit of my stomach, as I travelled to Liverpool through as Storm Celia’s raging wind, sleet and freezing conditions, felt like a lead balloon.
We were asked to arrive at the studio 30 minutes before recording, to make sure everyone was there in good time, so we could have a convivial chat to relax us all (!) and take instruction from Dan, the podcaster.
I arrived on time only to be told that Webberley’s PR person had texted to say that they were running late, enjoying a relaxing lunch nearby. Clearly a ploy. She didn’t want the convivial chat (neither did I) and wanted to put herself on the front foot from the offset. They arrived 10 minutes before kick-off, and it was all I could do to look her in the eye and say hello.
Some non-binary wazzock
The PR bloke announced himself as’ nonbinary’ without anyone asking. When we entered the studio, he came in and sat just out of camera, a little like a SPAD would while a cabinet minister was being interviewed. It was very odd, and rather pretentious.
During the conversation about young people who regret transitioning, because she was in denial that there were more than the odd one, I suggested she listened to the voices of the parents of these children, interviewed for my podcast series, Julie in Genderland. She interrupted and told me that this was not the time for me to be self-promoting. I asked, did she not want to hear the voices of the parents, and she said “I don’t want to listen to your podcast“. This series was self-funded, and is freely available on my Substack. Hardly the sort of money-spinner she is so familiar with.
There’s no point me going through what happened in the debate because you can see it all here, but every single second of the 90-odd minutes of combat felt torturous. I was in the presence of evil. As a secularist, it’s pretty difficult to believe in the devil if you don’t believe in God, but I can only describe the feeling in that way. Her malevolence, callousness, disregard for the pain of others bordered on sadistic and psychopathic.
I felt blind rage and disgust throughout, but had to appear calm and measured (as far as I could) because the worst thing to do in such a situation is get rattled or show your emotions. She was manipulative, bullying, and tried every trick in the book to discredit me. I felt like I was back in the 1980s when she started about how my type of feminism is “man hating” and outright lied when I presented her with scenarios or facts, claiming that this was not the case/ that didn’t happen/ I can’t prove it, yada, yada.
By the end, I was exhausted and depressed. But I was glad I had gone through with it. I missed my train, the weather had got worse, the next train was cancelled, and the one after that – which might just have got me back in time for my event – was delayed indefinitely because of a tree on the track. I gave up on the event, found a restaurant next door to the station, downed a strong cocktail, ordered some food (I had not been able to face anything before the debate, and by now it was 6pm) and eventually managed to get a very expensive Uber back to my accommodation. Feeling profoundly disturbed, I had a totally sleepless night.
I don’t tell you any of this in search of sympathy. It was my choice to do the debate. I made an informed decision, I knew what I was getting into, and nobody made me do it.
Helen Joyce, 2024
Helen Joyce also debated Webberley (live on Times Radio, mine was pre-recorded, six days earlier). Webberley’s PR person also changed the date from the original. Joyce’s reasons for agreeing to it were similar to mine – and she, like me, feels a visceral loathing for the woman. But it is important that we hold their views and actions up to the light.
For the two hours I was with Webberley, I was absolutely in the presence of evil. I have no idea how to explain this feeling, except to say that if it were possible to be exorcised without having to go through a Jeanette Winterson, Oranges are Not the Only Fruit scenario, I would opt for it. Nevertheless, I remain glad to have had the opportunity to expose some of the horrors of her viewpoint. I’m not stupid, I don’t think either my or Webberley’s performance will change the minds of extreme trans activists, nor of children who believe they are trapped in the wrong body and are seeking puberty blockers, nor of the parents who have invested in this dangerous fiction. But it might convince the sceptics, the undecided, the ‘normies’, those who have thus far buried their heads in the sand about what this ideology really is and what the end results can be.
As Joyce wrote on her Substack: “On balance I think that we don’t really have a choice but to counter her falsehoods and misrepresentations head on. If it was earlier in the game we could perhaps remonstrate with the occasional fringe outlet that considered giving gender quacks a platform, and work hard to ensure good coverage in mainstream outlets. But at this point, I think the only way out is through. We have to show them up, again and again, so that parents — and policymakers — eventually see them for what they are, even if the kids are still fooled.”
Helen Webberley should be in prison. But not amongst the general female population, lest she traumatise these women even further. Put her in solitary confinement, and throw away the key.
My interview on the Hodgecast, with Webberley
Helen Joyce and Webberley, Times Radio:
My substack series, Julie in Genderland:
Helen Joyce’s Substack on her debate:
Thank you for facing this ghoul head on. That evil (and malevolence that HJ refers to) comes across in spades during both interviews. How you sat opposite her and kept your temper is testimony to your professionalism. You and HJ each took one for the team here. We’re damn lucky to have you amazing women.
You made your very important points admirably Julie- with control, precision, knowledge of the facts, and didn’t allow yourself to be bullied or manipulated by Webberly who came across as deluded (obviously) but also juvenile, sarcastic, and completely without merit- not able to answer even the fundamental questions that you put to her. You may have felt depressed by the end but you were brilliant.