The SAVE Act and Patriarchy Unmasked: James Barry, Feminism, and the Eternal Fight for Autonomy
The Safeguard American Voter Eligibility (SAVE) Act, reintroduced in the U.S. House of Representatives this year, poses a significant threat to the democratic process by potentially disenfranchising millions of eligible voters. At its core, the Act mandates documentary proof of U.S. citizenship to register for federal elections, a requirement that disproportionately impacts those without immediate access to such documentation. This requirement is particularly punishing for those whose life circumstances do not conform to the rigid expectations of bureaucratic systems. Women, in particular, are at risk, especially if their current legal names differ from their birth certificates due to marriage or other changes, a reality rooted in deeply patriarchal traditions.
For people like myself and my wife, the implications are painfully clear. My own experience highlights how the SAVE Act would disenfranchise many. As someone adopted as a wee bairn, my ‘amended’ birth certificate reflects my adoption rather than the circumstances of my birth and parentage. A court-ordered name change in the early 1990s restored my birth name, but the document itself was never re-amended to reflect this. My wife, who took my last name when we married, would similarly find her identity called into question under the Act’s requirements. Together, we represent just one example of how the SAVE Act fails to account for the realities of people’s lives, reducing identity to a set of inflexible and exclusionary criteria.
This is no accident. The SAVE Act is yet another manifestation of the enduring Calvinist and Puritan foundation of the United States, where women, children, and outsiders have always been seen as lesser—property to be owned, controlled, or excluded. Far from a new phenomenon, this legislation is a natural progression of a rigid patriarchal worldview emboldened by the current political climate. What the far-right reveals through this Act is not innovation but how little they have progressed, still clinging to exclusionary ideologies as tools of control.
In this context, the story of James Barry—a woman forced to live as a man to become a surgeon—serves as a powerful lens through which to understand the lengths people have historically gone to circumvent patriarchal systems in pursuit of their dreams. In Barry’s time, as in ours, the system is designed to exclude, leaving those of us on the margins to navigate it with ingenuity, resistance, and resilience. The SAVE Act, like the barriers Barry faced, exemplifies the persistence of patriarchy and the enduring need to resist it.
The Puritanical Roots of Patriarchy in the United States
The Puritanical worldview that underpins much of the United States’ foundation has always rested on the subjugation of women, children, and anyone deemed an outsider. Calvinist and Puritan ideologies framed these groups as subordinate to the white, male head of the household, seeing them as property to be controlled rather than as individuals with agency. This perspective shaped not only the country’s early religious and cultural practices but also its laws and societal norms, embedding patriarchal control at every level. Women were expected to obey, children to conform, and migrants to assimilate or be cast aside. These attitudes, whilst often dressed up in the language of morality and order, were always about maintaining power in the hands of a select few.
This ideology has not withered with time but instead evolved, finding new expressions in every generation. The persistence of these beliefs is starkly visible in initiatives like Project 2025, whose architects long for what they call the “good old days.” These “days” were anything but good for anyone outside the narrow category of cisgender, white men who benefited from the patriarchal system. The so-called Trad Wife movement, with its idealisation of women’s subservience, offers a chilling glimpse into how deeply embedded these ideas remain in contemporary culture. Far from fringe beliefs, these regressive notions have found their way into the current administration, with many of the authors of Project 2025 now holding influential positions. Their policies are not simply about “restoring” order but about re-entrenching systems of control, ensuring that women, children, and marginalised groups remain firmly under patriarchal authority.
The SAVE Act must be understood as part of this same lineage. It is not a new development but rather a revelation—a bold unveiling of the ideologies that have always existed beneath the surface. Emboldened by the current political climate, its supporters no longer feel the need to cloak their intentions in euphemisms. The Act reflects the same rigid and exclusionary worldview that has historically defined U.S. patriarchy, targeting women, migrants, and marginalised communities by imposing unnecessary barriers under the guise of protecting democracy. Its primary sponsor, Representative Chip Roy, is emblematic of this mindset. Roy’s own history is littered with troubling views, including inflammatory remarks about women’s autonomy and dismissive attitudes toward systemic inequalities. His sponsorship of the SAVE Act is no coincidence—it aligns perfectly with the patriarchal system he seeks to reinforce.
The SAVE Act and initiatives like Project 2025 expose the far-right’s true ambitions: not to create a more equitable or secure society but to reinstate a rigid hierarchy that confines women and marginalised groups to the margins. These policies are a continuation of a centuries-old pattern, not a deviation from it. The language may have changed, but the intent remains the same—control, exclusion, and the preservation of patriarchal dominance.
The SAVE Act as a Tool of Patriarchal Exclusion
The SAVE Act presents itself as a measure to protect the sanctity of federal elections, but in reality, it serves as a tool of exclusion, with deeply patriarchal undertones. At its core, the Act imposes practical barriers that disproportionately disenfranchise women, particularly those whose legal names no longer match their birth certificates due to marriage. This mismatch, the result of a deeply ingrained patriarchal tradition that often pressures women into taking their husband’s surname, is not merely an unintended consequence—it is likely a deliberate feature of the law. After all, Calvinist ideals emphasise rigid hierarchies and control within the home, and the very structure of this law seems designed to reinforce those dynamics. Under its requirements, a husband could smugly inform his wife that, unfortunately, he has to vote “for her,” since her documentation no longer aligns with legal standards. What a clever and passive-aggressive way to tighten control in the very domain where women should have equal agency—the ballot box.
This law exemplifies patriarchy’s continued control over identity. By weaponising outdated societal norms like surname changes, it subtly punishes women who conform to traditional roles while simultaneously excluding those who reject them. It enforces the idea that identity—particularly women’s identity—is not something owned by the individual but rather something granted or regulated by the state and its patriarchal frameworks. My wife and I made the decision for her to take my last name when we married, not out of deference to tradition but as a practical measure. Schools and other institutions often struggle to understand documents when names don’t match, leading to unnecessary complications around parental rights and daily interactions. It was a way to protect our family’s cohesion, to avoid drawing unnecessary attention to ourselves, and, much like James Barry’s desire to live a life without interference, to slip under the radar and have as trouble-free a life as possible as parents in a system that seems to resist anything outside the norm.
At the same time, laws like the SAVE Act reinforce the historical connection between voting rights and property ownership. Women, low-income individuals, and anyone outside the patriarchal ideal of the white, male property owner find themselves excluded, their participation deemed unnecessary or even threatening to the system. This isn’t merely bureaucratic indifference—it’s structural control. Our decision to make life simpler by adopting a matching surname could be rendered moot under this law, which reduces identity to a rigid and exclusionary standard. It punishes not only those who reject patriarchal expectations but even those who, like us, attempt to navigate within them to avoid scrutiny. This is not about securing democracy but about ensuring that the system remains closed to all but the select few deemed acceptable.
The broader implications of the SAVE Act reveal its alignment with a deeply rooted fear of the outsider. Migrants, racial minorities, and low-income individuals are disproportionately impacted by its requirements, as they are less likely to possess the type of documentation deemed acceptable under this law. For many, obtaining these documents is an expensive and time-consuming process that becomes an additional barrier to democratic participation. The Act effectively elevates the voices of those who already hold power while silencing those who are perceived as a threat to the existing order. This fear of the “outsider” is a hallmark of the Puritanical worldview, one that casts anyone outside its narrow moral and cultural boundaries as dangerous or unworthy.
Ultimately, the SAVE Act is not just about voter registration—it is about reinforcing patriarchal systems of control and exclusion. Whether through its impact on women’s agency, its punishment of those who live on the margins, or its broader attack on the “outsider,” it reflects the enduring Calvinist desire to maintain a rigid social hierarchy. This is not a law designed to protect democracy but to undermine it by ensuring that only those deemed worthy by patriarchal standards are allowed a voice.
James Barry and the Fight to Circumvent Patriarchal Systems
James Barry’s life is a striking example of the extraordinary lengths women have historically gone to in order to circumvent the barriers imposed by patriarchal systems. Born in Ireland, Barry lived as a man to pursue their dream of becoming a surgeon, a profession that was entirely closed to women in the early 19th century. Their choice to disguise themselves was not unique. Other women throughout history have taken similar paths, whether to achieve their dreams or simply to survive. Figures like Sarah Edmonds, who disguised herself as a man to serve in the U.S. Civil War, or Dorothy Lawrence, who posed as a man to work as a war correspondent during World War I, demonstrate that Barry’s story belongs to a broader pattern of resistance. These women were not seeking to deceive but to overcome systems that denied them the ability to thrive in their own identities. For many, it was not about ambition alone but about survival in the face of dire circumstances, a testament to the ingenuity and resilience of those forced to operate in the shadows of patriarchal norms.
Barry’s life also underscores the systematic denial of opportunities that defined and continues to define patriarchal societies. To pursue their calling as a surgeon, Barry had to construct an entirely different identity, navigating a world that offered no alternative paths for women. This was not a decision made lightly but one born of necessity. The barriers imposed by the system were insurmountable without subversion. Barry’s success as a military surgeon, rising to the rank of Inspector General of Military Hospitals, was a triumph of skill and determination, but it came at the cost of living a life of constant vigilance and secrecy. The need for such extreme measures illustrates the cruelty of a system that forced women to erase themselves to simply have the chance to excel.
In this context, Barry’s story must be understood as a feminist issue, not a trans narrative. Whilst modern interpretations often try to position Barry as transmasculine, there is no evidence that Barry saw themselves as male beyond the practical necessity of living as one. Instead, their story is a reflection of systemic misogyny—how patriarchal systems compelled women to adopt male identities to gain access to education, professions, and basic freedoms. Barry’s life does not diminish the experiences of trans men or their own narratives but instead highlights the particular struggles of women under patriarchy. It is a reminder that the exclusion of women was so absolute that even those who conformed to the rigid expectations of their roles often found themselves erased in different ways, their lives defined by the compromises they were forced to make.
Barry’s example is a powerful lens through which to examine the SAVE Act and its implications. Just as Barry had to navigate a system that actively denied women’s autonomy, today’s patriarchal structures force women and marginalised groups into similarly impossible positions. The parallels between Barry’s life and the SAVE Act’s exclusionary tactics are not coincidental but a reflection of how little these systems have evolved. Barry’s story is not just history—it is a cautionary tale about the persistence of patriarchy and the enduring necessity of resistance.
Patriarchal Systems and Modern "Disguises"
The ways women and marginalised groups navigate patriarchal systems today may look different on the surface, but the essence remains the same. Whilst historical figures like James Barry had to disguise themselves as men to access opportunities, the modern equivalent often involves navigating loopholes, finding workarounds, or outright resistance to oppressive structures. It’s not some whimsical, “high-camp” Victor Victoria scenario, as delightful as that film is (and I do love it). This is real life, with real stakes, where voter suppression laws like the SAVE Act are presented as measures to “protect the ballot” but function as thinly veiled attempts to exclude. Instead of empowering voters, these systems force women, people of colour, migrants, and other marginalised groups to jump through unnecessary hoops to prove their legitimacy, perpetuating the same cycles of exclusion that Barry faced centuries ago.
The SAVE Act is a particularly stark example of how these barriers are manufactured. Barry’s struggle to circumvent a system that refused to see women as capable mirrors the modern reality of voter suppression laws. Like Barry, today’s voters are forced to go to extraordinary lengths to meet requirements that were designed to exclude them. This exclusion persists even as the modern surveillance state has unparalleled means of identifying people. In almost every other aspect of life—banking, travel, healthcare—technology has advanced to the point of seamless identity verification. Countries around the world have adopted modern voting systems that ensure security and accessibility without disenfranchising their citizens. Yet in the United States, rather than embracing these advancements, the focus remains on imposing archaic barriers that disproportionately affect marginalised groups. The choice not to leverage existing technology for voting isn’t a failure of innovation; it’s a deliberate decision to keep the system exclusionary.
The absurdity of these systems is that they create the very problems they claim to solve. The SAVE Act, for instance, insists on proof of citizenship to combat voter fraud, even though voter fraud is exceedingly rare. Instead of increasing trust in the electoral system, the law sows doubt and confusion, disenfranchising legitimate voters in the process. This mirrors patriarchy’s self-reinforcing cycle of exclusion, where the barriers it imposes are used as evidence of why those excluded don’t belong. The SAVE Act does not protect democracy; it undermines it by weaponising bureaucracy to keep marginalised voices out. Just as Barry’s need to disguise herself was a reflection of a system unwilling to recognise women’s capabilities, the SAVE Act reveals a system unwilling to acknowledge the legitimacy of the very people it claims to represent. This cycle of exclusion, dressed up as protection, is not progress—it’s a step back into the past.
The Failure of the Far-Right to Evolve
The far-right’s tactics, as exemplified by the SAVE Act, are nothing new. They are merely a rehash of old strategies designed to reinforce control and exclusion, cloaked in the language of safeguarding democracy. This recycled playbook draws deeply from the intertwined roots of Calvinism and capitalism, two systems that have gone hand in hand since the founding of the United States. Calvinism’s emphasis on moral rigidity and predestination dovetails seamlessly with capitalism’s relentless drive for monopoly, creating a society where power and control are concentrated in the hands of a select few. The SAVE Act, framed as a measure to protect the ballot, is yet another example of this dynamic—a capitalist monopoly creation scheme, this time aimed at monopolising control of the electorate. By constructing barriers to voting, the Act ensures that only those who align with the far-right’s vision of who “deserves” a voice are able to participate in democracy, perpetuating a system of exclusion that benefits the already powerful.
This effort to monopolise control is not a sign of strength but of desperation. The SAVE Act is a transparent attempt to roll back progress, reflecting the far-right’s inability to offer solutions beyond exclusion. Faced with a society that is slowly, but surely, moving towards greater equity and inclusion, their response is to double down on reactionary policies designed to preserve a regressive status quo. Capitalism, by its very nature, is always regressive and reactionary. It thrives on creating hierarchies, exploiting marginalised groups, and maintaining systems of inequality. The SAVE Act is no different—it uses the machinery of capitalism, with its focus on bureaucratic control and exclusion, to strip away the rights of those who threaten the existing power structures.
This is precisely why liberation and equal rights must be enshrined in law. Capitalism cannot and will not deliver justice or equality because it is fundamentally opposed to both. It seeks to preserve itself at all costs, even if that means undermining democracy and rolling back hard-won progress. The SAVE Act reveals the far-right’s ultimate weakness: their inability to evolve beyond these tired, exclusionary tactics. Instead of meeting the challenges of a diverse and equitable society, they cling to systems of control that prioritise the few over the many. But history has shown that these efforts are ultimately doomed to fail. The fight for liberation is ongoing, and the push for equal rights must continue, not just as a means of resisting the far-right but as a way of dismantling the capitalist-patriarchal systems that keep us all in chains.
Final thoughts …
James Barry’s life is a testament to the quiet power of resistance, a legacy of defiance against the patriarchal systems that sought to deny autonomy and agency. Barry’s remarkable achievements as a surgeon and advocate for the vulnerable were made possible only through a bold act of subversion—adopting a male identity to navigate a world that refused to see women as capable. Their story is not just one of personal triumph but a symbol of resilience for all who have been forced to find ways around the barriers imposed by patriarchy. It reminds us that systems of exclusion may be powerful, but they are never absolute. Resistance, even in its quietest forms, has the power to challenge and disrupt these systems, one act of defiance at a time.
The SAVE Act, like the barriers Barry faced, represents yet another iteration of patriarchal oppression, one that demands a response from all of us. It is not enough to recognise the injustice of such laws; we must actively resist them. Resistance here is both a feminist and a democratic necessity. Feminist because it strikes at the heart of a system that seeks to control and silence women and marginalised groups. Democratic because it challenges an exclusionary framework that undermines the very principles of equality and representation. The SAVE Act, in its transparent attempt to roll back progress, is a call to action—a reminder that the fight for liberation is far from over and that each of us has a role to play in dismantling the systems that sustain oppression.
While the persistence of patriarchal systems can feel overwhelming, history offers us hope. For every attempt to consolidate power and exclude, there has been resistance. From the suffragettes who fought for women’s right to vote, to civil rights activists who challenged segregation, to figures like James Barry who defied societal norms to achieve their dreams, history shows us that these systems, no matter how entrenched, are not invincible. They can and will be dismantled through collective action. Resistance may start as an individual act—a decision to live authentically, to defy a system, to cast a ballot against the odds—but its power grows when it becomes collective. Together, we can push back against the forces that seek to exclude and control, creating a society where liberation and equality are not just aspirations but realities. Barry’s legacy, and the stories of those who have resisted before us, remind us that change is possible, even in the face of overwhelming odds.