affaire Profumo) is a useful lesson for those who imagine that the open society is a tough plant that no frost can harm; corruption among those who are, or who are generally taken to be, or who implicitly claim to be, the arbiters of the nation's attitudes, can be a deeply dangerous thing. It is no coincidence that the most gleeful voice in the Profumo hubbub was that of the Daily Worker. It would seem, then, that we lay upon our public men and women an unfair hypocritical burden; that of behaving more respectably than the rest of us. The unfairness is obvious; the hypocrisy never far below the surface. But to carry that burden must be one of the concomitant obligations of a public life. Nobody, after all, is compelled to stay in the Government; if he prefers to romp in the hay he can choose freedom, and the penalty which society exacts from those who try to have it both ways, though savage, cannot really be said to be unjust. Capricious, certainly; those who believe that Mr Profumo was the only one are the naive or the deaf. But if Mr Profumo was a fall-guy, at least he wasn't framed; and it may teach the others to behave better in future. There remains one further conclusion to be drawn from these recent suggestions that the last days of the Roman Empire have returned. Central to this conclusion is the Duchess of Argyll (round whose case, incidentally, the hush-up was conducted a good deal more effi ciently than in Mr Profumo's; they order these things better in Scotland). Now it is here that democracy can be seen to have grown up, and the result is twofold; for Mr Profumo, an understandable feeling of grievance, but for society as a whole a curiously useful demonstration of its progress. There was once no difference between the two groups of top people those who were born in the purple and those who governed us; and the people looked up to and respected them for both reasons. This is no longer true. Few but local Tory chairmen hungry for OBES on the one hand, and Mr Godfrey Winn on the

other, imagine that Dukes and Duchesses are of any significance any longer, let alone that they have any real power in the country. Ohce upon a time, the Argyll case might have dealt the country's opinion of its leaders a blow greater than the Profumo scandal; indeed, the Act which forbids the publication of divorce-case evidence was the result of the Establishment's consciousness of the harm such things did, following on a sensationally sexy divorce in the peerage. But the Shrewsbury divorce case, the Marquis of Winchester enticement case, now the Duchess of Argyll's excursions into multiple hanky-panky, and her Duke's fondness for postcards with unusual views few people any longer take such figures seriously (and rightly so since they lost all real power), so little harm is done to anybody when they fall spectacularly from grace. This seems to me an excellent state of affairs. It brings closer together the semblance and the reality of public life in this country, and when the truth corresponds to what people believe to be the truth it is always good for society. Indeed, from this point of view even the Profumo case can do good. It will be more difficult for a Minister, next time a liberalisation of the laws against homosexual practices is proposed to advise the House to reject it, if speaking from a Despatch Box situated not more than twenty feet away from half a dozen men the speaker knows to be homosexuals. It will be more difficult in future for Lord Hailsham or Mr Henry Brooke (the two most inclined to do so) to talk about the moral rot affecting the nation. And it will be very difficult indeed for the next MP for Stratford-on-Avon to talk about any matter of wider significance than our imports of jute. And a good thing too, Jon, a Daily Mail cartoonist, summed up this aspect of the revelations: two girls, dressed à la mode, are talking. Said one: 'Not heard much lately about the low moral standards of us teenagers." If only there had been a Bishop and a Judge beside Lord Astor's swimmingpool! But perhaps there were.

mattachine REVIEW

WANT

TO CHANGE MY SEX!

DEAR DOCTOR:

Posed by professional models

The following letter, received by this magazine, was referred to the eminent international authority on "sex change" problems, Harry Benjamin, M.D.

What can I do to end my misery? In body I am looked at by others as a male, but in my mind and heart I see myself as a woman. Life has played a dirty trick on me, forcing me to live with the outer appearance of a man, but the inner feelings and emotions of a woman. Although my sex is male, I really think I am very much on the feminine side. Except that I do not have breasts, I have a womanly figure. On occasion, while dressed as a female (something I feel compelled to do quite frequently to ease my emotional tension) I have been told that I am quite beautiful. People look at me with respect and admiration. Not so when I am dressed as 'a man.

Perhaps I could live always dressed in a woman's clothes; but then I would always live in fear of being recognized and arrested. That will not help. Even now, I feel that I am a true woman hiding in the false physical shell of a male.

I understand that some people like me have been able, after years of torment, to find relief and happiness by actually becoming female through treatments and an operation. I am convinced that this is what I really need to end my misery.

I want to change my sex. Can you help me?-F. T. S.

DR. BENJAMIN'S REPLY:

Medical science and modern surgery have indeed helped cases like

yours, although not too many and not always too well.

An operation to have your sex "changed" is probably foremost in