The ‘Gaydar’ Fallacy and the Long Stare
By: Sean Bennett
Tags: LGBTQ, Love, Identity, Attraction, Equality

Hands up, who’s been here before?

Yeah, I thought so.

Welcome you to the wonderful world of the so-called ‘gaydar’, the real-life gameshow where queer people desperately try to decern the orientation of another person based on barely any information whatsoever, often when trying to work out whether or not said person’s identities and preferences would be compatible with their own.

Sometimes, it’s a pretty easy game to win. There are plenty of out and proud queer people in the world who brightly display their identity for all to see. Other times, however, it’s a little bit trickier. Like, playing chess against a grandmaster while riding a horse… backward… on the moon, kind of difficult.

The thing is, queerness comes in all shapes and sizes. There's no uniform, no entry requirements, no qualifications or prior experience necessary. All are welcome into the warm embrace of the community. This kaleidoscopic union is what makes the queer community so wonderful. Outside, in the open waters of the world, that spectacular diversity can make spotting each other a little bit challenging, though.

Contrary to what some people may believe, there is no one way to be queer. There is only one thing that all queer people having in common, namely ‘being queer’, and even then the sheer breadth of variation blurs most lines of categorization. Queerness, as it happens, is invisible. There is no outward way to tell if a person is queer or not. There just isn't. Until you actually talk to them and they tell you about their identity, you cannot know for sure what it is.

Sure, it looks like that guy is holding hands with another guy. So he’s gay, right?

Possibly. But he could also be bi or pan. He might not be a he at all. ‘His’ partner might not be either. They could be she’s or they’s. Maybe they're not partners at all and the affection you see isn't romantic.

It’s all just conjectures built on a foundation of… nothing. You cannot make reliable assumptions about peoples identities or relationships just by looking at them. Anybody you see on the street could be any sexuality, any gender, and any kind of queer or not queer identity under the sun. The only way to find out someone's identity for sure is for them to tell you. End of story.

But that doesn't stop us from trying to guess, does it?

The ‘gaydar’ and our symbols

Gaydar is an outdated term that doesn't even come close to encompassing the breadth of the community, but it is a phrase that is often used in peoples’ day-to-day speech. It refers to the apparent innate ability of a person to decern whether or not someone is or is not queer.

I personally don't particularly like the term and I am extremely doubtful that such a skill exists. Being able to guess whether someone is or is not queer has nothing to do with some bloodhound-like detection skills or a supernatural sixth sense and far more to do with the way people chose to express themselves and behave in public settings.

Some people chose to wear their identities openly and, in these cases, you might well be able to figure out a thing or two just by looking. However, even then, proceed with caution. People could be wearing symbols as a sign of support for a community rather than membership of it, and others may not even know that they are displaying a signal of any kind through their behaviour or their clothing. Queer culture has, in some ways, been adopted into the mainstream and its symbols are now no longer exclusively used to signal identities and broadcast information. Their power in terms of relaying messages to onlookers is waning, which means, uncomfortable though it may be sometimes, we’ll have to speak to each other to figure this stuff out.

There is something that we haven't discussed yet, though.

Clothing and symbolism is one thing, but it doesn't take much thought to realise that such material things cannot reasonably provide any absolute data regarding someone's identity, queer or otherwise. Behaviour, however, is slightly more complicated to unpack.

Back to the stare

We’ve already established that you can’t necessarily judge someone's identity directly through their public behaviour. Men holding hands don't have to be gay, and they don't have to be men. Passing judgment on these things from a position of detached distance is woefully inaccurate. Without having a conversation, there simply isn't enough information to start assuming labels.

There is something else at play here, though. Something more ethereal and less quantifiable than labels or identities — attraction.

It is possible to pick up on signals of attraction, mutual or otherwise, just by looking. There is a huge possibility for error, but it’s still technically possible.

Scientifically, our bodies undergo changes when we look at people we find attractive. A number of hormones in the body respond to such situations, either by increasing or decreasing in prevalence, depending on the chemical. As a result, your nerves may start to flutter, your heart might beat faster, your palms may start to get sweaty, and your pupils may dilate, among other things. Many of these symptoms of attraction display physically and are therefore visible to onlookers.

Naturally, in the event that you find someone attractive, you’ll probably want to get a good look at them. We are drawn to things we find beautiful, and that goes for people too. The thing is, even if you think someone is making eyes at you, you still have no information about their identity. The only information you have, however unreliable it may be, is that they seem to be attracted to you.

This kind of lingering glance is universal amongst genders and sexualities, as far as I can tell, but it holds a special significance for queer people.

Hide and seek

Queer people are the minority in this deeply heteronormative world. Though our freedoms have come far in recent years, there are still many places in the world where being openly queer is not an option. As a result, the possibility of wearing your identity loudly, for all to see, disappears. There can be no symbols or flags on your clothing, no queer stereotypes in your character, lest you give yourself away in a community that does not welcome you.

All that is left at the disposal of queer people wishing to connect and find love in these kinds of communities are the more covert operations of the heart. Fleeting glances that just aren't quite fleeting enough, those stares that are held just a hair too long, take on so much more importance in these situations. In places where queer people have to live and love in the shadows, romance sometimes has to blossom in silence.

Moments like that, where you lock eyes with somebody and see not only attraction, but recognition of another queer soul, are precious. In a world where our community so often goes overlooked or ignored, it can be genuinely lifechanging to feel seen and understood.

The long stare might be an act of attraction, but it carries weight well beyond the possibility of sex and love. In just a handful of seconds, a silent recognition of shared oppression and an emotional unmasking of strangers takes place. In years gone by that was how all of us were forced to meet and, even now, it the long stare remains prominent in the toolbox of queer folk looking for love.

So, though the ‘gaydar fallacy’ shows that it is impossible to surely know someone’s identity simply by looking at them, there are quantifiable signs that give away if someone is attracted to you or not. For some, this is simply a welcome form of flattery, but for others, it is the only way to discover each other in safety.

The long stare is a part of queer history, protecting us for generations, as it continues to do now. Perhaps, one day in the future, it will become a stare without fear. But not yet.