changing gender
Points of View
The importance of the point of view (POV) is something that’s drummed into writers: 
it’s the narrative perspective from which a story is told, important because it’s the angle from which readers experience the plot, observe the behaviour of the characters, and glean information about their world. In fiction, there are four types of point of view: first person, second person, third person limited, and third person omniscient, and the appeal of the story is largely dependent on, and enhanced by, whichever you choose. I sometimes experiment with different approaches to see which provides the best angle.
But recently I’ve been increasingly struck by the importance of POV in understanding a comment or a situation or a belief in real life too. As the late Queen Elizabeth II famously said of Harry and Meghan‘s exposure of ‘their truth’ about the British Royal family: ‘perceptions may vary’. Indeedy! And she was spared the worst excesses of their revelations accruing from Harry’s book, Spare, published this week, and the accompanying interviews.
Take for example, the BBC drama, Mayflies, shown during Christmas week (yep, I know, I know, curious choice of timing for a death drama, but hey ho). Based on a novel by Andrew O’Hagan, it tells the story of the response of one man, Tully, to a terminal diagnosis and 4-month prognosis. He doesn’t want to slide into indignity and suffering and incapacity, he wants to quit at his own time in his own control and commensurate with the way he lived his whole life – joyfully, flamboyantly. He chooses Switzerland. 
But no man is an island. His life-long best friend, Jimmy, is devastated by the news, and even more so by a request for help to get Tully to Dignitas in Switzerland, especially when it involves deceit and betrayal. Tully’s partner, Anna, is equally shattered by the prospect of losing her love, even more appalled when she discovers she’s been duped, and furthermore she’s implacably opposed to the whole business of deliberately ending one’s own life. Viewed through the POV of each of the three principal characters, the whole dynamic of the story changes. I found this applied powerfully in my own book on this topic, Right to Die.
Then there’s the long-running ongoing battle to change the laws on gender recognition. If you’re a teenage boy desperate to assume a new identity as female, I’m quite sure you’d be thrilled to hear you could do so immediately without medical verification, or years of living in the assumed gender before an official change can be recognised. If you’re a woman who’s been sexually abused and you fear the invasion of private single-sex spaces, you’d probably view the prospect of relaxation in the laws with some trepidation. If you’re a male rapist and you can see new horizon’s opening for access to vulnerable potential victims … well, what would your POV look like?
Oh, and then there were the Royal Institute Christmas lectures where the always-entertaining and erudite Professor Dame Sue Black aka Baroness Black of Strome, brought in a raft of experts to show vividly how so many professionals, all with a different point of view, use forensic science to unravel a pathological scene. Brilliant presentations; fascinating insights; exploring vital factors in the pursuit of justice and fairness.
A smattering of examples, but all highlighting the need to listen attentively to, and respect others’ POVs, and to have the humility to modify our own in response to accumulating knowledge.