Men are men, women are women — anything else is a sign of mental instability.” That bold, uncompromising statement from former collegiate swimmer and outspoken activist Riley Gaines drew thunderous applause at a packed venue last week. Her words reaffirmed her longstanding stance on sex, gender, and sports.
In a follow-up address, Gaines went further by presenting what she described as documentation and reports showing that hormone-replacement therapy (HRT) cannot turn a man into a woman, an assertion aimed squarely at the spotlight surrounding Lia Thomas and the broader debate in women’s athletics.
Gaines argued that embracing biological sex as immutable is foundational to fair competition. She said that allowing one sex to claim the other undermines both women’s sports and women’s identity itself. The audience reacted with cheers and standing ovations.
According to Gaines, the evidence she offered emphasises that even when male-bodied athletes undergo HRT and testosterone suppression, they retain physiological advantages rooted in male development — muscle mass, bone density, lung capacity — that HRT alone does not erase.
In her prepared testimony before the U.S. House subcommittee, Gaines said: “Yes, hormone therapy can narrow this gap. But it cannot close it, and studies consistently demonstrate that surgery and testosterone suppression do not reduce male athletic performance to normal female levels.”
Her remarks reignited fierce debate across the sports world. Supporters of sex-based competition rules applauded her for raising the issue publicly; critics called the remarks divisive, inaccurate and harmful to transgender individuals.
Beyond the locker room and racetrack, the issue is now political. Gaines has become a leading voice in the push for reforms in collegiate and high school athletics to limit or exclude trans women (those assigned male at birth who identify as female) from competing in women’s divisions.
Gaines recounted her own experience competing against Lia Thomas, describing how what she termed an “intact male” competed in a women’s division and was awarded a fifth-place trophy ahead of her despite Gos, raising questions in her mind about fairness and equity.
While she emphasises that her challenge is not to individuals but to policy, Gaines asserts that “biological men do not belong in women’s sports.” She says the matter is less about transgender identity and more about protecting female athletes who work within defined sex-based categories.
On the science front, it is true that feminising hormone therapy — commonly used in gender affirmation — causes many changes: breast development, fat redistribution, skin softening and reduction of body hair.
But medical and scientific literature also acknowledges the limits of HRT. Among the noted constraints: certain features developed during male puberty — such as skeletal structure, cortical bone strength, tendon attachment geometry and lung volume — are not fully reversed by hormone therapy alone.
In one review, gender-affirming hormone therapy is described as effective for many desired changes in secondary sexual characteristics, yet it “cannot undo many of the changes produced by naturally occurring puberty”.
Gaines cited these findings to argue that although HRT may align external appearance with gender identity, it cannot equate male-typical physiology fully to female-typical physiology, especially in athletics where strength, power and aerobic capacity matter.
Her critics respond that the issue is far more complex — pointing out that transgender women should not be defined solely by their prior male physiology, that human variation is vast, and that access to competitive sport for trans women is a matter of rights and inclusion.
Scientific bodies and sports regulators have grappled with how to balance inclusion and fairness. Some policies require transgender women to suppress testosterone to defined low levels for a specified period before competing, but much remains contested and evolving.
Gaines insists her focus is on fairness for cisgender female athletes. She argues that if the rules allow a male-bodied athlete to compete in the female division despite retained physiological advantages, then women’s sports risk being fundamentally compromised.
Members of the transgender community and allied advocates argue differently: that sport governing bodies, medical experts and ethics committees must work together to craft inclusive rules that protect rights while addressing competitive equity.
The spotlight on Lia Thomas, the first openly transgender woman to win a NCAA Division I national championship, remains pivotal. Her case has catalysed policy reviews and public debate about what it means to transition, what HRT can and cannot do, and how sport should respond.
In her statement, Gaines said: “Men are men, women are women — anything else is a sign of mental instability.” Whether framed as rhetorical provocation or firm belief, the statement has clearly energized both supporters and opponents in the gender-sports arena.
As universities, high-schools and athletic associations review their rules, the intersection of gender identity, biology, medical science and fairness remains unsettled. The question raised: can HRT ever fully remove the male-typical physiological advantages that begin in puberty?
For now, Gaines’s intervention ensures the debate is far from settled. Fans, athletes, regulators and rights-advocates alike will be watching how policy evolves, how research advances, and how definitions of “man” and “woman” continue to shift in sport and in society.
In the end, the line between identity and biology is being contested at the starting block. And for Riley Gaines, the race is not just about lanes in a pool — it’s about how we define gender, fairness and competition in the 21st century.
