Tate Smith: Don’t ignore the trans male experience
As a trans man, all Tate Smith wanted was to be treated as male. But as the former legal secretary soon learned, the privilege of being perceived as male was often to the detriment of his cis female colleagues.
“Soon after coming out, I was getting the ‘Go on my son’ treatment. I was suddenly one of the ‘lads’ and being asked for my opinion. Obviously, this was what I always wanted and way better than being told to make the coffees or having remarks made about my breasts or legs,” admits Tate.
“When I was presenting as female, I’d deliver papers to partners who would shout at me, ‘Get out, stupid girl, I’m working!’ But, as male, those same partners would be like, ‘Come in! Nice to meet you, mate. You watch the game last night? I’ve got a son your age – what should I get him for Christmas?’
“It’s kind of upsetting that people listen to me now because I’m a man. No one ever listened to my opinion before. All I was worth was taking meeting minutes and following up on actions. Now I am the one who sets the actions.
“It’s crazy to realise just how powerful male privilege is. I ended up reaping all the rewards and getting all the respect. But it was to the detriment of my female co-workers. That’s why when I talk about my transition, I’m very open about male privilege and sexism in the workplace.”
After completing his legal secretary qualifications in 2018 and spending seven months at a leading London law firm, Tate, who had not yet come out as trans, switched career tracks by joining an accountancy firm in a compliance role.
During his onboarding, the then 19-year-old filled out HR forms with his new name, cut his hair short, and wore male clothes. But he did not openly present as male. This caused some confusion, and embarrassment, in his new workplace.
“The men’s and women’s toilets were right next to each other and the men in the office would hold the door open for me to go into the men’s. When they realised their mistake, I could see they would get quite embarrassed,” he recalls.
Tate eventually confided in his line manager that, while he was born female, he intended to formally transition to male. The revelation did not go smoothly.
“She was shocked. In fact, she said she thought I was a lesbian,” laughs Tate.
In hindsight, this clumsy response was perhaps a warning of what was to come. Although the firm said it supported Tate’s transition, the HR team suggested he see an occupational health therapist. While such an offer might have been welcomed by some, Tate now believes the suggestion had an ulterior motive.
“The therapist, who had no experience of gender dysphoria, said he didn’t know what to write in his report. He said it was his understanding that my HR team was worried about what hormone treatment would do to me,” Tate explains.
Hormone therapy for trans men involves testosterone injections or gel to stop menstrual cycles and decrease oestrogen production. A lifelong treatment, the suppression of the female hormone can change physical features and how a person feels.
But although higher testosterone levels have been linked with increases in confidence, productivity, focus, and overall mental wellbeing, according to Tate, HR were more concerned at his potential for aggressive behaviour.
“They freaked out thinking I was going to get angry, turn into the Incredible Hulk, be a nuisance to work with,” he explains. “When they didn’t like the therapist’s report stating that wouldn’t be the case they started scheduling daily catch-ups.”
The experience damaged Tate’s self-esteem, which dropped even lower when HR suggested he work in a meeting room separate from the rest of his colleagues in the otherwise open-plan office.
Coming out to his co-workers had not gone much better. “I had one colleague ask, ‘What are you going to do about your nether regions?’, and then follow that up with, ‘Do you want to join our badminton team?’,” recalls Tate.
The final straw came when HR announced it would be extending Tate’s probation, not over concerns about his work, but because they didn’t know how his transition would impact him and the rest of the team.
“I didn’t know what to say. I thought that what HR says goes, because they’re authoritative figures. But I still knew what they were telling me wasn’t right – especially when they told me not to be disheartened as everybody’s probation gets extended. What sort of morale boost is that?”
Tate handed in his notice a week later to join Clifford Chance as a legal secretary. The magic circle law firm appealed to Tate due its pro bono work challenging a British government policy requiring only male and female gender markers appear on UK passports and its open support for the LGBTQ+ community.
“I interviewed there during Pride month. They had pride flags everywhere. The firm’s logo was in pride colours. Their Arcus affinity network was really impressive. It just felt so different. Like they were saying, ‘Come here, we’ll take care of you’.”
That the firm had a trans policy already in place was another big tick in the win column. However, the move was not completely smooth sailing.
After three months of hormone therapy, Tate’s facial features were beginning to change, making him look far younger. Aside from being occasionally mistaken for the work-experience kid, Tate was now the subject of increasing gossip.
“You don’t get many male legal secretaries,” explains Tate. “I kept overhearing conversations like, ‘Is that a boy or a girl?’, or someone referring to me as “a pretty boy”. One paralegal asked me outright if I was having jawline fillers.”
Such comments had an impact on Tate at a critical point in his transition.
“In your early transition, when you’re trying to pass as male or female, you get really obsessed with how you’re perceived. I wanted the world to receive me as male so I was over-masculising myself. I was scowling, wearing suits that didn’t suit me, and getting haircuts I thought would make me look more masculine,” he explains.
“So, when somebody said I looked a bit feminine, a pretty boy, that gave me a complex. Other than to my boss and her boss, who were both really supportive, I hadn’t come out to the rest of the firm. But I started to wonder if everyone already knew that I was trans.”
In fact, Tate had indeed already been outed by one of his new colleagues.
“A secretary mentioned in a group chat that a boy named ‘Tate Smith’ was starting at the firm. I was already connected with another secretary on LinkedIn, where my profile still showed my female name. So, this girl ends up outing me in the chat saying, ‘That’s a girl pretending to be a boy’.”
Asked how Clifford Chance responded, Tate says the firm “took the necessary action” following an investigation. The support he received during this difficult time gave Tate the confidence to take a big step in his career – helping to educate others and debunk common myths surrounding trans people. But first, he would have to come out to the firm’s London office – all 2,000 people.
“What happened with the other secretaries really knocked me, and I wanted to take that power back. So I agreed to do a ‘lunch and learn’ session in February 2020. It was supposed to be for about 50 people, but after the invite was sent around to the London office we had 140 sign up. People were queuing up outside to get in!”
The event was a roaring success largely due to Tate’s unique focus on trans male visibility, which is often overlooked in favour of trans women’s transitions and debate over their rights. This is surprising given that trans men are as common as trans women.
More than 250,000 people in England and Wales identify as transgender, according to 2023 Census data. Those who specifically identified as trans men or trans women in the census was equal – 48,000 each.
As Clifford Chance’s first out-trans employee, Tate had an opportunity to shift the conversation – to talk about his lived experience; highlight the real effects of testosterone; the impact of male privilege and toxic masculinity; and how outdated workplace policies present unique challenges to trans men.
“So, because I had a large chest, I was wearing a binder to make my chest look flatter,” explains Tate. “You’re only supposed to wear a binder for eight hours a day. But when you factor in commuting time, the working day, being at home with your flatmates – all times when I wanted to be perceived as male – I was clocking up ten to 12 hours a day, which put pressure on my rib cage and is very unsafe.”
On a practical level, wearing a binder at work was not only uncomfortable, but also made Tate even more self-conscious of his appearance.
“Binders rarely come in neutral colours and they would show through beneath my white shirts,” he explains. “I heard one lawyer ask, ‘Why is that boy wearing a crop top?’ So, to minimise that happening, I’d put on jumpers over my shirts – even in summer. But even then I was scurrying off to the toilet to check my reflection, reposition the binder, when I should have been doing my job.”
Tate’s advice for employers: get rid of gendered dress codes.
“Trans aside, we should not be telling women to wear skirts and high heels in law firms. And we should not be telling men to wear a shirt and tie. Have a dress code that says, ‘Dress for your day’,” he suggests.
“If you’re going to be representing the firm, speaking to a client, you dress smart. If you need to be comfortable at your desk, then dress accordingly.
“But we should also be inclusive of people’s gender identities and gender expression. We should be able to express ourselves without a dress code limiting us. After all, gender stereotypes affect cis people as well as trans people,” he adds.
“I don’t feel masculine wearing a suit. I feel like a 12-year-old boy playing dress-up in his dad’s clothes. That’s beside the fact that these dress codes don’t allow for trans men to wear binders.”
In Tate’s experience, the introduction of gender-neutral policies is equally beneficial to cis men and women and trans men and women. Take, for example, one of history’s most taboo subjects – the menopause.
“My testosterone therapy suppresses my oestrogen, which incidentally brings on early menopause. Updating your policies with gender-neutral language is not only more inclusive for trans and non-binary people, but it also helps highlight the menopause in the workplace. And the same goes for menstruation leave policies, because not every trans man will have testosterone therapy.”
For Tate, this is a crucial point for employers to understand: “One transition does not look the same as another. When we talk about transitioning, it’s not only medical. It’s also social. The coming out. The change in the name. The change in gender expression as opposed to medical hormones and surgery.
“And some people do not want to go on hormones or cannot realistically get them because there is such a long waiting list for gender-dysphoria care.”
Nevertheless, gender-affirming surgery is an important step in many trans people’s transitions. Unfortunately, for millions of trans people, gender-affirming surgery is only a dream due to cost or restrictions on such care.
But even trans people who can take advantage of an employer’s private healthcare coverage may find themselves unable to complete their physical transitions, as Tate soon learned.
“We discovered that Clifford Chance’s healthcare provider only covered bottom surgery, not top surgery, which the insurer considered to be a cosmetic procedure,” explains Tate.
Colloquial terms, “bottom” surgery covers penile or vaginal construction, while “top” surgery involves the removal or augmentation of breast tissue to create a more masculine or feminine appearance. Trans people can opt for one or the other, both or neither in their transitions. But to some insurers, one surgery is considered less important.
“The insurer was adamant that the procedure I was after was the same as a boob job,” says Tate. “But, as the firm’s director of inclusion argued, it wasn’t; it’s not cosmetic, it’s gender-affirming. I’m not amplifying anything, I’m taking it away and then reconstructing it to look more masculine.”
Eventually, Clifford Chance’s insurer caved and Tate got the top surgery he desperately needed. But this victory was not only Tate’s. News of the insurance policy change quickly spread around the magic circle firm’s Canary Wharf-based financial services clients, who swiftly pushed to amend their policies, too.
In the years since, other big-name consumer brands have followed suit but, surprisingly for Tate, many have chosen not to publicise their improved benefits packages for trans staff.
“I don’t know why they don’t publicise the change,” says Tate. “They have told me they just don’t want to, but it’s possibly to do with potential negative press.”
Progressive trans policies have been a favourite topic among right-leaning media organisations and commentators in recent years. But perhaps no workplace policy is as divisive as the perceived rights and wrongs of allowing trans women to use female washrooms.
Those with gender-critical beliefs will often point to the UK Equality Act which acknowledges the legality of single-sex spaces. As a trans man, Tate has a unique perspective on this, too.
“At my lunch and learns, I ask these people what they would do if they saw a trans man entering a men’s bathroom? They never have an issue with it,” he says.
“After I came out, there was no question from anyone about what toilet I would use. But that’s not the experience of trans women. When they come out, HR ends up receiving loads of emails essentially saying, ‘We won’t share the same toilet as them’. This shows the differences between the trans male and female experiences.”
Of course, Tate is also cognisant of the differences in how men and women view and use public toilets.
“It’s hard to articulate but when you’re a man, for lack of a better term, you tap and go. You don’t acknowledge anyone, even if they’re in your team. They don’t exist. You do your business, you wash your hands, and off you go,” he says.
“But when you’re a woman, it’s a social event. You take your time. You touch up your makeup, you fix your hair. There are more interactions than in a male toilet, which means more chance that, as a trans woman, someone will clock you and tell you to get out.
“I want employers to realise that our experiences are completely different, but that you must protect us all from bullying and harassment. Call out transphobia in your bullying and harassment policies. And don’t be afraid to use that word where it’s relevant.”
For Tate, having a gender-neutral toilet policy would benefit not only trans workers but other groups in the workplace, too.
“Having gender-neutral bathrooms in addition to male and female bathrooms, not only accommodates gender-neutral people but also people with disabilities, people of faith, and people who just need privacy. As an employer, why wouldn’t you want to make your life easier and cover more DEI strands of your strategy with such a policy?” he says.
Amid the often febrile debate over trans rights, Tate says he is a strong believer in a need for more open, respectful dialogue between trans and gender-critical activists to help bridge the gap between their respective positions.
Grateful for the experience and support the firm gave him during his two-and-a-half years there, Tate left Clifford Chance in 2022 with plans of becoming a lawyer. In the end, however, he decided he could initiate more change by becoming an activist.
He has since been named one of Attitude Magazine’s ten LGBTQ+ trailblazers to watch, one of 50 Champions of Inclusion on the 2023 Diversity Power List, and nominated for PinkNews’ Community Role Model Award.
In April, Tate will return to Clifford Chance’s Canary Wharf HQ to officially launch his own consultancy business, which has already assisted the likes of Barclays, Anglo American, JP Morgan, and many more to transform their workplace policies.
“This has been a long time coming for me and I couldn’t have made it to this point without the support of so many kind individuals who gave me a platform to speak about important issues impacting the trans community,” he says.
“Hosting this celebration at the spot where it all began, feels like a full-circle moment, and I couldn’t think of a better spot to celebrate this new chapter in my life.”
Tate Smith’s key takeaways on trans inclusion
Have a trans policy in place before a trans worker joins or comes out at work. You can have a trans policy without having any trans employees.
Just because a trans person is out does not make them an educator for your whole business. You shouldn’t expect them to educate everyone on trans issues.
Cover the cost of gender-affirming care through your private medical insurance.
Be aware of any biases you may have towards trans women as opposed to trans men. Don’t make their transition any harder than it already is.