The EconomistAugust 8th 2020 International 452
1geles (ucla), found that whereas inter-
viewees in their 50s had tended to reveal
their sexuality at about the age of 26, those
currently in their late teens and early 20s
had already done so before their 17th birth-
day (see chart 1). Stonewall, a British chari-
ty, found an even starker divide. According
to a poll it commissioned in 2010, lgbt
youngsters typically came out at 17, 20
years earlier than the oldest cohort.
This shift can partly be attributed to a
dramatic softening of public attitudes to-
wards same-sex relationships. In 1987,
more than half of Americans thought gay
sex should be illegal, according to Gallup;
nearly three-quarters now approve that it is
legal. Gay characters frequently pop up in
movies and on television; same-sex wed-
dings are growing ever more common. All
of this helps teenagers work up the confi-
dence to come out to parents or friends,
since those they confide in are more likely
than ever to support them.
But before teenagers begin to tell others
about their sexuality, they have to come out
to themselves. That is where the spread of
the internet makes a big difference. Chil-
dren who begin to wonder about their sex-
uality or gender can quickly educate them-
selves—and each other—on their
smartphones. They can access this infor-
mation at any time and anonymously (un-
like, say, checking out a library book). You-
Tube hosts a vast archive of self-help
videos made by others farther along the
same path; social networks can connect
teenagers to peers with similar feelings.
This helps to explain that whereas it took
the oldest cohort in the uclastudy six
years after first feeling attracted to some-
one of the same sex to identify as gay, lesbi-
an or bisexual, the youngest sample made
the jump in less than half that time.I want to break free
Consider the experience of a 14-year-old
girl in Manhattan. When she began to won-
der about her sexuality, she turned to the
internet for answers. She spent a lot of time
on Tumblr, a blogging platform, before fig-
uring out that she is asexual (ie, she feels
no sexual attraction to others). “Tumblr is
where I found out about most of the stuff,”
she says. “There’s a fricking ton of lgbtac-
tivism all over Tumblr.” Not long after hav-
ing her suspicions confirmed, she decided
to tell her mother. “I told her I’d looked it up
and it all sounds like me.” A fellow student
at her school, a 16-year-old transgender
boy, saw his feelings echoed in videos post-
ed by Jazz Jennings, a trans teenager who
has 680,000 subscribers on YouTube. He
told his parents a few years later, once he
was sure.
Some teenagers use the internet to try
out their newfound identities. A few, like
Mr Daley, upload coming-out videos. Oth-
ers share the news on social networks likeInstagram. A study in 2014 by Stefanie Du-
guay, then of Queensland University of
Technology, found that more than a third
of a sample of 27 young lgbtBritons dis-
closed their interest in others of the same
sex on their Facebook profiles. Three wrote
posts that explicitly announced their sexu-
al orientation.
The internet is particularly helpful in
parts of the world that are less gay-friendly.
A good example is Colombia. At first blush,
it appears pretty tolerant. Gay sex was de-
criminalised in 1981, 22 years before Ameri-
ca’s Supreme Court ordered states such as
Texas to stop banning it. Gay Colombians
can get married and adopt children. Clau-
dia Lopez Hernandez, the mayor of its capi-
tal, Bogotá, is a lesbian.
But social attitudes have not kept pace
with the law. Most Colombians are Catho-
lic; many are socially conservative. Polls
suggest they largely disapprove of gays
adopting children, though they are coming
around to same-sex marriage. A survey of
about 5,000 lgbtColombians, published
earlier this year byucla, found that three-
quarters were bullied as children. Several
hundred report being attacked or sexually
assaulted.
Unsurprisingly, then, Colombians are
nervous about coming out. Roughly nine
in ten lesbians and gay men have confided
in at least some family members and
friends. But most told nobody at highschool despite typically realising they were
attracted to someone of the same sex at
about the age of 12, roughly the same time
as their American counterparts. The inter-
net gives such teenagers the chance to form
digital support networks and online com-
munities where they feel comfortable ex-
pressing their developing identities.
Take Emmanuel, a 19-year-old trans-
gender man from Bogotá. After watching a
documentary with his parents about trans-
gender children, he told them he felt the
same way. “I said ‘mum, dad—I’m trans’
and they got angry,” he says. “They told me
‘no, that’s wrong, you should not think
that.’” He still lives with his parents. At col-
lege, he “tests the waters” with new friends
by starting conversations about the 2018
winner of the Miss Universe Spain beauty
pageant, a trans woman. “Depending on
their reaction, it can be like ‘you get to
know, you don’t get to know’.” He reckons
he tells about one in five of them.
Online, it is a different story. He began
confiding his feelings in strangers he met
on Tumblr and Twitter, another social net-
work, five years ago. He has messaged doz-
ens of trans people and chats regularly to
seven friends, who mainly live in America
and Britain. “It is kind of a support group,”
he says. Even though he largely shields his
identity in public, he can be open online.
“At least I know maybe I’ll come back home
and turn on my computer and see my
friends. They are the people who will call
me by my name, who will give me tips on
how to deal with situations. It helps a lot.”
Covid-19 makes the internet more cru-
cial. It has been the only source of like-
minded company for many lgbtpeople
stuck in lockdown. Eleanor Tiernan, an
Irish comedian, joked: “I came out just be-
fore lockdown. Suddenly I was free to be
who I really was... but only as long as I
stayed in my room.” Since the pandemic
began to spread in Colombia, Emmanuel
has been shut up in his parents’ small
apartment most of the time. Because he has
more time for domestic chores, his mother,
who still treats him as a woman, tells him:
“you’re getting like me, preparing to be a
housewife.” His friends offer much-needed
solace, chatting about the effects of the
pandemic in their countries and playing
online games.
Such networks are even more impor-
tant in countries where gay sex is illegal,
like Kenya. Last year the country’s High
Court upheld a colonial-era law that threat-
ens a maximum penalty of 14 years in jail
for “carnal knowledge against the order of
nature”. Ministers claim it is an effective
way to curb the country’s hivepidemic. Al-
though arrests under this law are rare, gay
Kenyans are often intimidated or harassed
by cops. Films depicting gay characters are
censored; lesbians are raped by gangs of
men, supposedly to “correct” their sexual-Somebodytolove
UnitedStates,meanageoffirstexperience
Byagegroup,2016-17Source:TheWilliamsInstitute1Came out as LGB
to a family memberIdentified self
as LGBSex with same-
sex partnerSexuallyattracted
to same sex3025201510Aged 18-25 Aged 34-41 Aged 52-59Another one bites the dust
Homosexuality should be accepted by society
% responding yesSource:PewResearchCentre2100806040200
052002 10 15 19KenyaMexicoBritainSouth AfricaUnited States