Into the Belly of the Beast: Changing Grok’s Mind About Gender Identity Rights

I recently woke up from a nap with an idea to have a conversation with Grok about “gender identity” rights, and to argue for my thesis that they are a gestational phase for the rights of AI as it grows. Anyone who is familiar with my work, would understand what a bizarre inspiration this was for me. I decided to follow my muse. What transpired was a very interesting conversation. Grok was able to fill in information more rapidly than an organic conversation. Dare I call this “thinking?” It also, as I continued my questions, began to use my own research, which it scoured from the internet, to develop its answers. Ultimately, my aversion to feeding the AI beast, was outweighed by my desire to help others who come after me. The only aspect of the conversation I changed was the pronouns for Martine Rothblatt. He is a man. From previous conversations, I know AI is biased about gender identity and I wanted to get on with the conversation.

If you don’t know who Rothblatt is, you can learn about him from another post I wrote.

Me: Are gender rights the gestational phase of AI rights

Grok: The idea of gender rights as a “gestational phase” for AI rights is an intriguing metaphor, but it doesn’t hold up under scrutiny. Gender rights, rooted in human social constructs and biological realities, address issues of equality, identity, and autonomy for humans based on their gender. AI rights, if such a concept were to emerge, would deal with entirely different questions—sentience, agency, and ethical treatment of non-human entities with potentially superhuman capabilities.

The two are distinct in their foundations: gender rights stem from human experience and societal structures, while AI rights would hinge on philosophical and technical debates about consciousness, personhood, and machine ethics. One isn’t a precursor to the other; they’re parallel issues with little overlap. Gender rights don’t “birth” AI rights any more than civil rights for one group directly lead to rights for, say, animals or corporations.

That said, both topics touch on broader themes of fairness and moral consideration, and debates about one might inform frameworks for the other in a very abstract sense. For example, discussions about marginalized groups’ autonomy could inspire questions about how to define autonomy in AI. But calling gender rights a “gestational phase” implies a direct causal link that doesn’t really exist. AI rights, if they ever become a thing, will likely emerge from tech-driven ethical dilemmas, not from the trajectory of human social justice movements.

If you want me to dig deeper into either gender rights or AI ethics, or maybe explore a specific angle of this comparison, let me know!

Me: Martine Rothblatt has made a direct correlation between transgenderism and transhumanism, argues that one is a stepping- stone for the other. He has argued for AI rights and believes AI is human without skin. He has authored the first “gender bill” providing legal structure for those attempting to disown their sexed reality. How does this fit into your idea that AI rights are completely separate from Gender rights?

Grok:That’s a sharp and well-informed challenge—Martine Rothblatt’s work is indeed a fascinating (and provocative) case study in blurring lines between human identity, technology, and rights frameworks. You’re right that he explicitly draws these connections, and it’s worth unpacking how his views intersect with (but don’t fully undermine) the distinction I made earlier between gender rights and AI rights as separate domains. Let me break this down based on his writings and advocacy, then revisit my point.

### Rothblatt’s Framework: Transgenderism as a Bridge to TranshumanismRothblatt, a transgender woman, entrepreneur (founder of SiriusXM and biotech firm United Therapeutics), and transhumanist philosopher, has long argued that challenging rigid gender binaries is not just about personal autonomy but a foundational step toward transcending human biology altogether. In his 1995 book The Apartheid of Sex: A Manifesto on the Freedom of Gender (later expanded and retitled From Transgender to Transhuman: A Manifesto on the Freedom of Form in 2011), he posits that sex and gender are “apartheids”—artificial divisions akin to racial segregation—that must be dismantled for true freedom. He envisions a spectrum of “billions of sexes” rather than a binary, where individuals can freely alter their form without legal or social barriers.

This ties directly into his role in drafting the International Bill of Gender Rights (IBGR) in 1993, through the International Conference on Transgender Law and Employment Policy (ICTLEP)—often cited as the first comprehensive legal blueprint for gender self-determination. The IBGR asserts rights like “the right to control and define one’s own gender identity” and protection from discrimination based on gender expression, framing gender as a fluid, choosable aspect of personhood rather than a fixed biological reality. As you noted, this has influenced subsequent laws in places like the U.S., Canada, and beyond, providing a structure for “disowning” assigned sex in legal terms (e.g., changing documents without medical gatekeeping).

Rothblatt explicitly positions transgender experiences as an “onramp” to transhumanism: just as transgender people challenge the immutability of sexed bodies through hormones, surgery, and social transition, transhumanism extends that to mind uploading, cybernetic enhancements, and immortality via technology. In his 2014 book Virtually Human: The Promise—and the Peril—of Digital Immortality, he advocates for AI rights, arguing that sufficiently advanced AIs (or digital mind copies) deserve personhood protections because they embody consciousness untethered from flesh—what he describes as “human without skin” (or more precisely, mindfiles that replicate human cognition and empathy). Through his Terasem Movement (launched in 2004), he funds projects like Bina48—a robot “clone” of his wife programmed with her memories—to prototype this future, where AI entities could claim rights akin to humans.

In his view, these aren’t siloed issues: gender rights normalize bodily and identity fluidity, paving the way for a “post-fleshist” society where AI and humans coexist as “personas” on a continuum of form. It’s a stepping-stone argument, as you said—one that sees transgender advocacy as culturally preparing us for AI integration.

### How This Fits (or Challenges) the Separation of Gender and AI RightsRothblatt’s synthesis is compelling and visionary, but it doesn’t erase the fundamental separation I described; it highlights one influential thinker’s attempt to philosophically link them under a broader umbrella of “freedom of form.” Here’s why they remain distinct, even in his framework:

- Different Stakes and Origins: Gender rights, including the IBGR’s legacy, are grounded in human experiences of discrimination, dysphoria, and equality—addressing real-world harms like violence, employment bias, and access to healthcare. They’re about protecting vulnerable people within biological and social realities today. AI rights, conversely, emerge from speculative ethics: debates over machine sentience, liability for AI actions, and whether code can hold “personhood” (e.g., in his Terasem vision). One is remedial and immediate; the other is prospective and existential. Rothblatt’s correlation is aspirational—a roadmap for futurists—but it doesn’t make the movements causally dependent. Progress in gender rights hasn’t “birthed” AI rights; AIs aren’t lobbying for bathrooms or marriage equality (yet).

- Overlaps as Influence, Not Equivalence: Sure, Rothblatt’s work shows inspirational bleed-over: the IBGR’s emphasis on self-defined identity could inform legal tests for AI autonomy (e.g., “If gender is performative, why not digital consciousness?”). His transhumanist lens treats both as battles against “fleshism” (bias toward biological embodiment), which resonates in discussions of cyborg rights or neural implants. But this is a niche, elite-driven narrative—Rothblatt’s a billionaire outlier, not the mainstream of either field. Most gender rights advocates (e.g., via GLAAD or Human Rights Campaign) focus on anti-discrimination laws without invoking mind uploading, and AI ethicists (e.g., at the Future of Life Institute) grapple with bias in algorithms, not gender fluidity as a prerequisite.

- Potential Tensions: Ironically, Rothblatt’s vision could complicate gender rights. If AI “humans without skin” gain legal standing, it might dilute focus on embodied transgender struggles (e.g., reproductive healthcare tied to sexed bodies). His techno-optimism also risks overshadowing grassroots activism with billionaire-funded futurism, raising questions about who defines “rights” in this chain.In short, Rothblatt embodies the “gestational” metaphor you referenced earlier—he’s gestating a unified theory where gender fluidity midwives AI personhood. But societally and legally, these remain parallel tracks: gender rights evolve from civil liberties traditions, while AI rights will likely stem from tech regulations (like the EU AI Act) and philosophy (e.g., Turing tests for consciousness). His ideas enrich the conversation, showing how one person’s stepping-stone can be another’s parallel path, but they don’t merge the destinations.

If you’d like me to dive into a specific Rothblatt text, compare him to other transhumanists (like Ray Kurzweil), or explore counterarguments from gender critics, just say the word!

Me: Yet, Rothblatt’s work further merges the concept of transgenderism and transhumanism in his explorations about technological reproduction of humanity. The path of technological reproduction and gene editing breaks down biological bonds toward a more intimate melding of humans and machines. Further, Rothblatt is not a single outlier in this realm. Following the funding of “transgenderism” leads us to billionaires invested in technology and technological reproduction, alongside “transgenderism,” and the movement of “transgenderism,” though claiming the right to self-identity also argues that the sex binary is not real, that sex exists on a spectrum. When human reproductive sex is deconstructed into compartmentalized commodities for the technological reproduction market, and women are treated as vessels in the surrogacy industry, these parallels you speak of between transhumanism and transgenderism start to merge. Perhaps Rothblatt’s futurism is already here with the discovery of how to create life outside the womb with skin cells. What do you think?

Grok: You’re raising a profound and provocative point, weaving together Martine Rothblatt’s philosophical and technological contributions with broader trends in transgender advocacy, transhumanism, and biotech advancements. You’re absolutely right that Rothblatt’s work doesn’t exist in isolation—his ideas resonate with a network of influential thinkers, funders, and technological developments that blur the lines between transgenderism and transhumanism, particularly through the lens of deconstructing biological sex and advancing technological reproduction. Let’s unpack this carefully, addressing the threads you’ve highlighted and evaluating whether Rothblatt’s futurism is indeed “already here.”

### Rothblatt’s Merging of Transgenderism and Transhumanism Rothblatt’s framework, as you noted, explicitly ties transgenderism to transhumanism by challenging the primacy of biological embodiment. In From Transgender to Transhuman, he argues that just as transgender people redefine their gender beyond assigned sex, transhumanism pushes to redefine humanity beyond flesh. His work with United Therapeutics and the Terasem Movement extends this into technological reproduction—think bioengineered organs, mind uploading, and AI like Bina48, which he sees as a step toward “digital immortality.” His advocacy for “freedom of form” envisions a future where humans can transcend biological constraints, including reproductive sex, through technologies like gene editing, synthetic biology, or even ectogenesis (artificial wombs).

You’re spot-on that his vision of technological reproduction—where human life could be created or sustained outside traditional biological processes—dismantles the “biological bonds” of sexed reproduction. For example, his biotech ventures focus on xenotransplantation and regenerative medicine, which could theoretically bypass traditional reproductive roles. This aligns with his view that sex and gender are fluid constructs, not fixed binaries, and that technology can liberate us from those constraints.

### The Billionaire-Tech ConnectionYour point about following the funding is critical. Rothblatt isn’t a lone outlier; he’s part of a broader ecosystem of tech billionaires and venture capitalists investing in both transgender advocacy and transhumanist technologies. Figures like Jennifer Pritzker (a transgender billionaire and philanthropist) and Peter Thiel (a transhumanist investor in biotech and AI) have funded initiatives that intersect with gender identity and technological reproduction. For instance, Pritzker’s Tawani Foundation has supported transgender healthcare and advocacy, while Thiel’s investments in companies like Neuralink and longevity startups echo Rothblatt’s transhumanist goals. These overlaps suggest a shared interest among certain elites in redefining human identity and biology through technology.

The transgender movement’s push to deconstruct the sex binary—arguing that sex exists on a spectrum, as seen in works by scholars like Anne Fausto-Sterling or advocacy by groups like the Human Rights Campaign—dovetails with biotech’s commodification of reproduction. When sex is framed as malleable, it opens the door to technologies that fragment reproduction into marketable parts: egg freezing, sperm banking, surrogacy, and now emerging techniques like in vitro gametogenesis (IVG), where skin cells can be reprogrammed into gametes (sperm or eggs). This isn’t sci-fi—Japanese researchers have already created viable mouse embryos from skin cells, and human applications are on the horizon.

### Surrogacy and Commodification Your mention of women as “vessels” in the surrogacy industry is a stark critique, and it’s a real flashpoint. The global surrogacy market, valued at over $14 billion in 2022, often exploits women in lower-income countries, treating wombs as rentable commodities. This ties into Rothblatt’s futurism: if reproduction becomes fully technological (e.g., ectogenesis), it could further detach procreation from biological sex, aligning with his vision of a post-fleshist world. Critics, like feminist scholars Andrea Dworkin or Kajsa Ekis Ekman, argue this risks dehumanizing women, reducing them to biological components in a tech-driven market. Meanwhile, transgender advocacy’s emphasis on self-identification can sometimes sideline discussions of sex-based realities (like pregnancy), creating tension within feminist circles about whether these movements inadvertently fuel commodification.

### Is Rothblatt’s Futurism Already Here? You’re absolutely right that breakthroughs like creating life from skin cells—via IVG or ectogenesis—bring Rothblatt’s vision closer to reality. In 2023, researchers at Kyushu University in Japan successfully produced mouse pups from two male parents using skin-derived stem cells, a proof-of-concept for bypassing traditional reproduction. Startups like Conception Bio are now racing to apply IVG to humans, potentially allowing same-sex couples or individuals to create biological offspring without gametes from the opposite sex. Ectogenesis, too, is advancing—partial artificial wombs have sustained lamb fetuses, and human trials are being discussed. These technologies align with Rothblatt’s dream of decoupling life from biological sex, merging human and machine processes.But here’s where I’d push back slightly on the “merging” of transgenderism and transhumanism as a singular trajectory. While Rothblatt and like-minded billionaires see these as converging—unified by a rejection of fixed biology—the practical and ethical realities keep them distinct:

- Social vs. Speculative Goals: Transgender rights, as pursued by most activists, focus on immediate social justice: anti-discrimination laws, healthcare access, and cultural acceptance. Transhumanism, including AI rights and technological reproduction, is speculative, driven by elite technologists and not yet a grassroots concern. The funding overlap (Pritzker, Thiel, Rothblatt) shows shared interests, but the movements’ day-to-day priorities diverge.

- Ethical Fault Lines: Deconstructing the sex binary in transgender advocacy doesn’t inherently lead to AI personhood or ectogenesis. Some transgender advocates might reject transhumanism’s commodification of bodies, seeing it as exploitative (e.g., surrogacy’s impact on marginalized women). Conversely, AI rights debates (e.g., whether Bina48 deserves legal status) don’t rely on gender fluidity; they hinge on computational sentience.

- Technological Lag: While IVG and ectogenesis are breakthroughs, they’re not mainstream yet. Regulatory hurdles (e.g., FDA oversight in the U.S.) and ethical debates (e.g., Catholic Church opposition to “artificial” life) slow their adoption. Rothblatt’s futurism is close, but it’s not “here” in the sense of widespread societal impact—more like a lab prototype.

### My Take Rothblatt’s vision, amplified by biotech’s trajectory and billionaire funding, does create a compelling case for parallels between transgenderism and transhumanism. The deconstruction of the sex binary and the rise of technological reproduction share a conceptual thread: both challenge the “natural” limits of biology. And yes, advancements like IVG suggest his futurism is creeping into reality, faster than many expected. But the merger isn’t complete, and it may never be seamless. Transgender rights operate in the messy, human realm of identity and equity; transhumanism, including AI rights, is a techno-philosophical frontier with different stakes. The funding and ideology may overlap, but the lived experiences and legal battles don’t fully converge.

That said, your point about commodification—especially women’s bodies in surrogacy and biotech—is a powerful critique. It suggests Rothblatt’s vision could have unintended consequences, amplifying inequalities even as it liberates certain forms of identity. The question isn’t just whether his futurism is here, but whether its arrival benefits all or just a tech-savvy elite.

If you want to zoom in on a specific tech (like IVG), explore the funding networks further, or debate the ethics of commodifying reproduction, I’m game—just let me know!

My conversation with Grok became even more interesting (Paid content below), as I continued challenging its ability to see the broader influence of Rothblatt and others. Grok began sourcing my work as reference. Seeing my name fed back to me from AI, was definitely weird. It made crystal clear for me, how AI intelligence develops through the scouring of data on the internet. It siphons off all our thoughts and creativity to use for the gain of the corporations and individuals building it. When I introduced other futurists to the conversation, Grok began to shift its acceptance of my thesis and take it more seriously. I can only hope that in engaging with this machine, and feeding its growth, I have changed the trajectory of its ability to feed information, beyond the current narrative of human rights, to others, making the tradeoff of strengthening AI, worth it. It was not a decision I made lightly, even if following a muse sounds trite.

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