Why I confronted Nancy Mace

On Thursday of last week, I was tossed out of a tech conference in Washington, DC because I stood up and spoke out against a vile bigot––and sitting member of Congress––who had been invited to speak. I would do it again.

I want to be clear that the goal of my protest wasn’t to convince haters to stop spreading hate. It was to spark a conversation among tech policy advocates and philanthropists about what our strategy is going into the next four years. 

Will we cozy up to bigots, authoritarians, and wannabe fascists who have goals that are incompatible with basic human rights, just because they pretend to be “against Big Tech”? Or will we draw a line in the sand, and build a meaningful resistance movement fighting for technology to be a force for justice and liberation rather than tyranny and greed? This is the question of our moment. I could not sit silently without asking it.

Here’s what happened:

I was invited to attend the Project Liberty “Summit on the Future of the Internet,” at Georgetown University. I said yes, as it seemed like a good opportunity to network with other tech policy advocates and people building interesting decentralized tools. 

The day before the Summit, I started messaging friends in DC to see if they would also be there. A pattern started to emerge. It seemed that almost none of my friends and colleagues from civil rights, racial justice, LGBTQ, free expression or human rights groups had been invited––or were even aware the event was happening. Then a friend flagged something for me: one of the opening keynote speakers was Representative Nancy Mace (R-SC), who has catapulted herself into the headlines in recent days by branding herself as the most violently transphobic member of Congress. 

Lots of Republican lawmakers have terrible positions on LGBTQ issues, but Rep Mace has created a hateful class of her own. In recent days she has tweeted literally hundreds of times about her spiteful campaign to ban Rep elect Sarah McBride (D-DE) from using the women’s bathrooms at the Capitol, while continuously misgendering her and other trans people. This kind of rhetoric isn’t just misinformed and obnoxious, it’s deadly. 

While my background as an organizer is in grassroots mobilization, in my role as the director of Fight for the Future I’ve spent enough time engaging with the “inside game” of Washington, DC that I’m not naive about how things work. Bipartisan support is necessary for any forward momentum on important policies like antitrust, privacy legislation, and limiting government surveillance. I’ve been in meetings, on calls, and sat on panels with people who I profoundly disagree with on many things, but am temporarily aligned with toward a common goal.

But Nancy Mace has almost no record on tech policy issues. Until her “pick me” campaign of transphobia, she was a largely unknown member of Congress who has had no meaningful engagement on tech regulation beyond vague swipes at “Big Tech censorship” and tacit support for the cryptocurrency industry.

I’m no fan of Senator Marsha Blackburn (R-TN) or Cathy McMorris Rodgers (R-WA), but I could probably have a substantive, policy-focused debate with either of them. Nancy Mace had nothing to add to the conversation at the Summit on the Future of the Internet. It’s clear that she was there for one reason: she was the Republican who said yes, and the conference organizers wanted to show far right extremists in Congress and the incoming administration that they were willing to “find common ground.”

Project Liberty is the brainchild and creation of billionaire Frank McCourt, known for his bid to buy TikTok. I’ve met with Frank and his team in the past, and I think they have their hearts in the right place. They genuinely want to see us freed from Big Tech monopolies and usher in an Internet that is more decentralized, democratic, and safer. But that doesn’t mean they know how to make that happen. And based on who was invited to the Summit, I’m not sure they’re talking to the right people to find out.

Frank McCourt’s views are closer to my own than, say, Elon Musk. But in the end, we have to ask ourselves what it means to be caught in a war between a small handful of billionaires vying to reshape the Internet in their image. And what it means for the “tech policy” space to be so influenced by a small network of wealthy donors and philanthropic foundations that are not immune from corporate influence and shifting political winds. 

Shortly after Rep Mace took the stage, alongside Rep Ro Khanna (D-CA) and radio personality Charlamagne Tha God, she started complaining about online backlash to her transphobic campaign. I stood up and unfurled a progress pride flag that I had in my bag. I summoned my musical theater voice and said, loudly, “This is ridiculous. It is the day after Trans Day of Visibility [I meant Trans Day of Remembrance, but tripped over my words in the adrenaline rush]. We’ve had dozens of trans people die this year because of the hate and lies that you’re spreading ... Are we building an Internet with free speech for everyone? Or just the privileged few? Are you going to stand up for the lives of trans people, Black and brown people? Are we fighting for justice or are we fighting for Big Tech?” 

After I was escorted out, Mace doubled down on her hate, misgendering me and talking about my genitals. The crowd booed her. Project Liberty cut the livestream while I was speaking, but turned it back on in time to cover Rep Mace’s extensive, hateful remarks. I fully expected to be ejected from the room, though I was not expecting to be manhandled by one of the conference organizers––a higher up at Project Liberty––before being grabbed by security. I also fully expected to be on the receiving end of online hate and threats. Though to be honest, I wasn’t expecting a sitting member of Congress to start literally tweeting about my genitals. 

Rep Khanna pushed back on Mace’s rhetoric, but then unfortunately pivoted to calling for the passage of the Kids Online Safety Act (KOSA), a bill that has been roundly condemned by human rights experts as a threat to transgender youth. Nice effort, Ro, but policy positions speak louder than words of support. 

Predictably, while I’ve received an outpouring of love and support from trans people, tech justice advocates, and allies, I’ve also faced an avalanche of hate, threats, and harassment. No one from Project Liberty has reached out to discuss their decision to platform Nancy Mace or their choice to eject me from the conference while allowing her to continue spreading transphobia. 

I’m not all that surprised.

I can handle the hate. As a trans public figure and leader of a prominent digital rights organization I am, for better or worse, used to it. I’m not scared of hatemongers and keyboard warriors. 

But what does scare me is the unanswered question of the day: are those of us focused on technology and the rules governing it ready to meet the moment? If billionaire donors and philanthropists choose to kowtow to fascists in the name of “doing something about tech,” do we have alternative ways to support and fund the work that needs to be done? When the incoming administration leverages technology to carry out mass deportations and other human rights violations, do we have a plan to stop it, or at least mitigate harm and build power for the future?

I’m just one trans femme punk rocker with a loud voice. I don’t have all the answers. But I hope that by speaking up, I can move us toward calling the question.

Evan Greer is a transgender activist, writer, and musician based in Boston. She’s the director of Fight for the Future, and writes regularly about technology and LGBTQ rights for outlets like the Washington Post, Time, CNN, Wired, and NBC News.