Australia has changed a lot since my teens in the 1970s. I grew up thinking I was the only one (who wasn’t obvious). That’s how suppressed it was. I was a member of the first Young Gays group in the country. It formed at the 5th National Homosexual Conference at the Universal Workshop, Fitzroy, Melbourne in 1979.¹

That’s where I met John Caleo and his high school sweetheart Tim Conigrave, who wrote a book about their love story called, “Holding the Man”. It later became a play and then a movie in 2015.

Those were the days when we were struggling to get homosexuality legalized and stop gay bashing. I was beaten up twice in public (that bar scene in Holding the Man). We were all doing what we could to ‘come out of the closet’, demand respect and change attitudes.

They we times filled with a sense of purpose, but there were downsides. In some circles there was inappropriate pressure to ‘come out’ before one felt really ready. The more ideologically driven gays and lesbians showed less sensitivity to individual circumstances and respect for individual agency than they could have, such was their fervor for ‘the cause’.  But at least we cared, and we were brave. And it paid off eventually.

But something is happening now that is undermining those efforts. There’s a new form of gay shame going around. How is this possible?

Well, you change a few words and make excuses for people who are different. For example, ‘closeted’ is now ‘discreet’. It helps to change the language because it breaks continuity with the past. (One of the reasons I’m a keen advocate of continuity and longevity is that it curtails cultural amnesia.) Gay male dating apps are normalizing closeted behaviour by including ‘discreet’ as a profile option. Faceless and even blank profiles are common place. Some cite ‘the workplace’ as an excuse, but who, pray tell, is going to see you unless they’re on the same app? Others cite online security issues, but unless you’re in an oppressive, controlling regime like the C.C.P., it seems little better than a convenience excuse.

The clever thing about the word ‘discreet’ is that it applies to what the user feels is information that others would rather not know, or need not know. Like your sexuality. ‘I don’t want to meet up in public.’ Yes, that’s normal again. Here we are in 2024 and hiding your homosexuality is back in fashion. It doesn’t apply to how big your dick is. That’s crucial information, apparently. And don’t give a damn how that makes your target feel.

How did we achieve this fabulous new freedom? Well, like I said, you make concessions for people who are different. This is popularly known as being ‘diverse and accepting’. In other words, if you’re from an anti-gay background, it’s okay to be ‘discreet’, even if you came to Australia to escape anti-gay sentiment. Now it’s not just Asians (whose culture is centered on not ‘rocking the boat’) or Muslims (indulging in a little Western sleaze on the sly), or people from any number of other anti-gay countries, it’s being adopted by Australian men. Why would they do it? Cowardice is contagious. The Internet and social media is facilitating it.

But to be fair, it’s not just about sexual preference, it’s mixed up with promiscuity. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not a prude. I’ve had plenty of fun, uncommitted sex. And you probably don’t want to know more, which is why some discretion around sexual activity is only appropriate in certain circumstances (like here). Again, don’t get me wrong, I rejoice in the sexual freedom we have today. The trouble is there’s so much of it and it’s so dehumanizing. It’d be okay if just a few gay dating apps were for hook ups, but almost all of them are hyper-sexualizing. Guys are blatant about showing what counts to them – stuff you can’t recognize someone by on the street. It doesn’t matter what your face looks like and what character it conveys when you’re just looking for a rubber-doll substitute.

It’s become normal to do things you’d be ashamed to tell anyone about.  Gay guys seem to have completely forgotten about falling in love. Yeah, that antiquated idea. Personally, I think if you’re incapable of falling in love, you’ve probably lost the ability to feel, Alfie.

Now it seems gay love stories are for the movies, not real life.

1. Lavender Youth – a history of Melbourne Young Gays. Sep 79 – Jan 81. Bill Calder.