Is there such a thing as “gaydar”?
A few weeks back, my close friend Saul* and I were standing in a packed bar, cocktails in hand, bonding over our favorite activity: people-watching. Our target of the evening was the immaculately groomed male server that was nimbly making his way through the room.
“He’s definitely gay,” said Saul, taking a sip from his drink.
“How do you know?” I asked, stunned at how quickly he had deciphered the server’s sexuality.
“His eyebrows,” shrugged Saul, matter-of-factly.
Now, as a straight woman in a hetero-normative society, many questions come up when I first meet someone of the opposite sex, but their sexual orientation is rarely one; heterosexuality, unless otherwise specified, seems to be assumed in our society, and questioning it is simply not a huge part of dating. This could certainly raise discussions of whether this contributes to oppression, or whether it is wrong, but few would argue that it is for the most part the way that our society currently functions. It is mainly this personal approach that made me pursue the discussion further: in a society that assumes hetero-normativity — but that nonetheless has a strong GLBTQ presence — what role does the concept of “gaydar” play on the dating scene and, more importantly, is there really such a thing?
Gaydar is a term used to describe the ability to tell whether another individual is gay or straight. Over time, however, it has risen above its colloquial use and has captured the interest of social psychologists and researchers. There have been numerous studies on the existence of gaydar. The findings of a recent Washington study, published in June of this year, confirmed an affirmative answer. The researchers, Joshua Tabak and Vivian Zayas, conducted experiments that entailed a series of photographs. The photographs — of both males and females, and with all physical cultural indications (piercings, glasses, tattoos, etc) omitted — were shown to participants for 50 milliseconds to ensure that participants had enough time to see the face, but were not provided with an opportunity to analyze what they had seen. After seeing the faces, participants were asked to decide the individuals’ sexual orientation. Surprisingly, the study found a 60 percent accuracy rate — a statistically significant finding. Similar findings have been found in other earlier studies of this type as well, showing that there is a relative consistency in this data.
As impressive as these findings are in a laboratory setting, the fact remains that real life does not present us with constraints such as time, nor are individuals devoid of social cues that may tip off their orientation. “It’s funny that it’s easy to spot gay men because they show some sort of femininity in their manners or gesture. But to spot a lesbian from afar, especially the feminine ones, it’s tough,” says April of her experiences. “There’s actually a game called ‘hipster or lesbian.’ Girls like to follow the alternative fashion looks these days, and the trend of androgyny made it harder for actual lesbians to pick out the gay ones from the bunch of other stylish short-haired girls.” The fact that some subcultures may function in a way that sends similar signals to those picked up by a “gaydar” is an interesting point, and one that is also brought up about gay men. Jamie mentioned that currently popular trends are making gaydars ring in false alarms. “I think these days gaydar is less accurate,” he says. “With the rising trend of ‘metrosexual,’ there are so many straight boys that set off my gaydar.” This is something that the findings of the aforementioned study did not take into account: the design of the study implied that there is something inherent in our perception of others, and that someone’s orientation is reflected in their faces. When faced with replicating this in real life, however, things get more complicated. Saul, for example, does not just judge whether another man is gay or straight based on a glance; he looks at mannerisms and behavioral cues as well. “Gay men tend to have lots of hand motions when talking, and when holding a drink, they usually turn their wrist inward, while straight guys usually hold their drinks straight in front of them,” he explains. This kind of systemic observation and coding of others’ body language surprised and fascinated me. It never occurred to me to look so closely at these details — which may be because it’s not necessary for my personal use. This got me to thinking: is gaydar something that one learns because they have to, or is present in all of us, further honed by use or necessity?
To even begin to answer this question, I first had to see whether this cluelessness of social nuances was my own personal shortfall, or whether others outside of the gay community were in the same boat of ignorance as myself. Most straight individuals I asked didn’t really have a strong opinion, saying they could usually tell somebody’s orientation, but did not adamantly defend that ability. The answer that fascinated me the most, however, was that of Chad*, a close (straight) male friend who is proud of his exceptional gaydar. “Gay guys strike me as the ones most comfortable around women. Bizarre as it sounds, it’s like they don’t feel the same biological overwhelming pressure around women that straight counterparts might,” he explains. “When a guy is really great around girls and more awkward around other guys, I usually see that as an indicator of his sexual orientation.” Chad, like Saul, cites observation of social cues as being his tactic.
April, however, did not express the same ease and luck as Saul and Chad did. “After many failed attempts at trying to have a gaydar, I just ended up realizing that it is just based on gay stereotypes, which is pretty confusing,” she says. “Most of the girls I thought were gay — because they fit the guidelines within the gaydar — ended up not being so.” While the premise of the gaydar seems similar, if not identical, in both men and women, it appears that it is somehow simpler among the gay male community, as April mentioned. According to Rachel, gaydar does not necessarily differ in females; rather it is the cues that people read in each other that might be different.
Everybody I had asked seemed to use gay stereotypes and social cues as strong aspects of their gaydar; the numerous studies I looked at, however, had all found similar findings to that of Tabak and Zayas’s study, that is, that participants showed significant success with their gaydars even when the faces they were shown were devoid of any of these cues. So, does gaydar consist of looking at these signs and mannerisms, or is it more of a feeling or sense that one gets about a certain person? “A bit of both,” says Saul. “Kind of you can learn it, but it’s definitely a feeling. You either have it or you don’t.” Rachel, however, mentions a conversation she had with a friend, where the two agreed that it is not a checklist, but rather recognizing your own traits in someone else. “It’s more a recognition of difference,” explains Rachel. “For some it’s an analytical and calculated inference, and for others it’s manifested as a sense or intuition. I think it’s based on the same type of criteria, but individuals read their interpretations differently.”
Even within the GLBTQ community, things are changing, and with this evolution in society and subcultures, the face of gaydar is varying as well. “The fact that society is more accepting means the visual cues queer people use to mark themselves aren’t as necessary because now you can just say it without definitive repercussions,” says Rachel. “I think gaydar in the community stems from a need to find each other easily without raising eyebrows. It’s like someone wearing a cross or a Star of David. It’s just expressing a part of yourself outwardly.”
“I think the only way you can tell that a person is gay (or mildly interested in you) is when you two make eye contact and it’s maintained,” concludes April. “Then it’s obvious.” This hits close to home, because it makes it all seem so simple. Despite all the hype about gaydar, despite all I’ve heard about how complicated it all is, it is all summed up in the same simple ways that I have known since I hit puberty: there is a mutual attraction, and you both just know.
What I got from all this is that “gaydar” is a societal construct based on gay stereotypes. These stereotypes may be based on fact, or they may be just as fleeting and arbitrary as many stereotypes before them. What is certain, however, is that society is ever changing, and so are the nuances of subcultures — such as the need for gaydar. Ultimately, though, it doesn’t matter if the woman has short hair, or the man holds his beer (or margarita, for that matter) at a certain angle; interpersonal relations will always be complicated, but that’s what makes them so exciting. It is also why so many people, from researchers to Curious Georges like myself, try to find the answers, only to be led in circles, as each person’s definitions end up as unique as their approach to relationships. Gaydar may or may not be a thing, and we may never know for sure how valid it is, but who cares if you have a top-of-the-line gaydar, or a rusty gaydar from the 80s? It will always be about two people, and not about the ivory towers of lab research, or about the complex social rules and regulations that nobody seems to understand.
