When the Going Gets Tough, They Move On: HRC’s Layoffs and the Abandonment of Trans People
The past few weeks have provided yet another confirmation of what many trans people already knew: mainstream LGB organisations were never truly in the fight for trans liberation. Their focus was always on assimilation, on ensuring that cis gay and lesbian people could be accepted into the existing social and economic order, not on dismantling the systems that oppress all of us. The Human Rights Campaign (HRC) has long embodied this reality—an organisation that built its power on corporate sponsorships and political lobbying, that prioritised marriage equality and military inclusion, that spent decades making the case that cis gay and lesbian people were no threat to the status quo. Trans people were useful for branding, good for the occasional speech or diversity initiative, but never a priority.
HRC’s track record makes this clear. In 2007, it actively lobbied against the inclusion of gender identity protections in the Employment Non-Discrimination Act (ENDA), choosing instead to back a version that protected only sexual orientation. When trans activists and community organisers objected, they were told to wait—that their time would come later. It never did. While HRC celebrated legal victories for cis gay and lesbian people, trans people were left behind, still struggling against workplace discrimination, housing instability, and a healthcare system that systematically denies them care. When marriage equality was won in 2015, the mainstream LGB movement largely declared victory. For them, the fight was over. For trans people, it had barely begun.
Now, in the face of the most aggressive anti-trans political assault in decades, HRC is retreating. The organisation has announced mass layoffs and a restructuring plan, citing financial instability as the reason. The messaging is carefully framed: this is simply about sustainability, about reallocating resources where they are most needed. But the timing is telling. Just as the Regime escalates its efforts to erase trans and nonbinary people from government recognition, the largest and most well-funded LGB organisation is stepping back. This isn’t a coincidence. It is a familiar pattern—one that repeats every time trans people need real, material support.
This moment raises a fundamental question: when the fight gets difficult, why do our supposed allies disappear? Why is it that, when trans people are under direct attack, organisations that once flew the trans flag so proudly seem more interested in restructuring than resisting? The answer lies in understanding what HRC was always meant to be—an institution built to secure a seat at the table for cis gay and lesbian people, not a vehicle for radical change. And now that the table has been set, they are no longer interested in whether trans people get a place.
HRC’s History of Moving On When Trans People Are Most Vulnerable
In 2007, the Human Rights Campaign faced significant criticism for its role in the Employment Non-Discrimination Act. Despite a 2004 policy to support only inclusive legislation, HRC endorsed a version of ENDA that excluded gender identity protections, prioritising workplace rights for cisgender LGB individuals over comprehensive coverage. This decision was seen as a betrayal by many in the transgender community, highlighting HRC’s willingness to compromise trans rights for perceived legislative success. Sources: hrc.org and washingtonblade.com
Throughout the 2010s, HRC concentrated its efforts on achieving marriage equality, culminating in the 2015 Supreme Court ruling in Obergefell v. Hodges. Whilst this was a landmark victory for cisgender gay and lesbian couples, the focus on marriage left pressing issues affecting trans individuals—such as official documentation changes and corrections, healthcare access, housing discrimination, and escalating violence—largely unaddressed. The organisation’s agenda appeared to centre on causes that aligned with traditional societal norms, sidelining the more urgent and life-threatening challenges faced by the transgender community.
Following the Obergefell decision, HRC and similar organisations declared a significant victory and shifted their priorities. This declaration of success overlooked the fact that transgender individuals still lacked federal protections and were experiencing increasing rates of violence. The narrative of mission accomplishment ignored the ongoing struggles of the trans community, suggesting that once the primary goals of cisgender LGB individuals were met, the fight for equality was considered complete.
HRC’s pursuit of corporate sponsorships and political endorsements further influenced its approach to trans issues. In an effort to appeal to mainstream partners, the organisation often sanitised or downplayed transgender concerns, treating them as secondary rather than integral to their mission. This strategy not only marginalised trans voices but also reinforced a hierarchy within the LGBTQ+ movement, where the needs of cisgender members were prioritised over those of transgender individuals.
These actions underscore a pattern within HRC of advancing the interests of cisgender gay and lesbian individuals, often at the expense of the transgender community. By sidelining trans issues in legislative advocacy and public campaigns, HRC has demonstrated a recurring willingness to compromise on comprehensive equality, raising questions about its commitment to true inclusivity within the LGBTQ+ movement.
HRC’s Latest Moves: A Case Study in Abandonment
In a previous article, I examined how mainstream LGB organisations, particularly the HRC, have historically prioritised the assimilation of cisgender gay and lesbian individuals into existing societal structures, often at the expense of trans and nonbinary people. This pattern is evident in actions such as HRC's lobbying against the inclusion of gender identity protections in ENDA in 2007, where the organisation favoured workplace protections that primarily benefited cis LGB individuals. Additionally, during the 2010s, HRC channelled significant resources into the fight for marriage equality, a cause that, while important, did not address the pressing issues faced by the trans community, such as access to healthcare, secure housing, and protection from violence. Following the Supreme Court's 2015 Obergefell v. Hodges decision, which legalised same-sex marriage nationwide, HRC and similar groups declared a monumental victory, yet largely overlooked the fact that trans individuals remained without comprehensive federal protections and continued to face escalating violence. Moreover, HRC’s pursuit of corporate sponsorships and political endorsements often led to a sanitisation of trans issues, relegating them to a lower priority.
Recent developments underscore this ongoing marginalisation. A few days ago, HRC announced a major restructuring, resulting in the layoff of approximately 20% of its staff. Whilst officially attributed to financial challenges and the need to adapt to a shifting political landscape, this move coincides with a period of intensified attacks on trans rights, particularly under the current administration's policies. Notably, as the government implements measures that effectively erase trans and nonbinary individuals from federal recognition—such as removing the "X" gender marker from passports and enforcing a strict binary understanding of sex—HRC’s response has been conspicuously muted. Their official communications, including resources and work outlines, offer little insight into any proactive strategies to combat these assaults on trans existence. Instead of mobilising for direct action or engaging in radical advocacy to defend trans rights, HRC appears to be focusing inward, prioritising organisational restructuring and rebranding efforts. This inward turn raises concerns about a potential retreat from trans advocacy, echoing the sentiments of the “LGB Without the T” movement, which seeks to distance cis LGB issues from those of the trans community.
These actions suggest a troubling pattern: when challenges intensify for trans individuals, organisations like HRC, which profess to be allies, often withdraw or shift focus, leaving the trans community to navigate these crises with minimal support. This underscores the necessity for trans-led initiatives and the importance of building autonomous movements dedicated to trans liberation, independent of mainstream LGB organisations that have repeatedly demonstrated a willingness to sideline trans issues when the political climate becomes challenging.
The Pattern Repeats: The Function of Mainstream LGB Organisations
If the HRC isn’t a COINTELPRO-style operation to suppress trans liberation, it might as well be. It operates like a perfectly engineered pressure valve, siphoning off radical energy, redirecting it into harmless corporate lobbying, and ensuring that trans people remain marginalised within their own movement. Whether by design or sheer opportunism, HRC functions as a containment strategy, absorbing funding, visibility, and political capital—then using it to advance an agenda that has never meaningfully included trans people.
Look at how it presents itself. HRC brands itself as the largest LGBTQ+ advocacy organisation in the U.S., yet its website and press output reflect an organisation designed to police the boundaries of what “acceptable” queer activism looks like. Its messaging is carefully managed, speaking in bland, non-threatening terms about “equality” whilst avoiding direct confrontation with the systems that make true liberation impossible. The fact that you can learn more about renting their D.C. headquarters for a corporate event than you can about what they’re doing to combat the erasure of trans people from federal documents tells you everything you need to know.
On the HRC Transgender Resources page, there is no clear call to action, no emergency response to the Trump administration’s latest attacks, no mobilisation plan to counteract the rapid rollback of trans rights. The organisation’s official page on its work speaks in vague platitudes about LGBTQ+ equality but offers no substantive strategy to protect trans people from the escalating wave of anti-trans legislation. Meanwhile, trans activists and community organisers are left scrambling, fundraising for legal defences, organising protests, and literally crowdfunding their survival on GoFundMe. Where is the largest “LGBTQ+” advocacy group in the country? Too busy protecting its status as an institution to fight for the people it claims to represent.
Even its financial priorities suggest a deliberate misalignment with the needs of the most vulnerable. HRC maintains a prime real estate headquarters in Washington, D.C., a space it rents out for private events, networking functions, and corporate gatherings. Whilst trans people are being denied healthcare, housing, and basic human dignity, HRC is hosting cocktail receptions with panoramic city views. This is not an organisation in crisis—it is an organisation fulfilling its true function: maintaining the illusion of advocacy whilst ensuring that trans liberation never disrupts the status quo.
This is a pattern, not an accident. When trans people fight for survival, HRC pacifies the movement, redirecting radical demands into tepid, corporate-friendly “advocacy” that ensures nothing truly changes. When it comes time to actually fight—when confrontation becomes necessary—HRC pulls back, redirects funding, and reframes the conversation away from anything that could challenge existing power structures. It happened in 2007 with ENDA, when HRC threw trans workers under the bus for the sake of a “winnable” bill that only protected cis gay and lesbian employees. It happened again in the 2010s, when marriage equality became the singular focus of mainstream activism, leaving trans people to fend for themselves in battles over housing, healthcare, and legal recognition. And now, in 2025, as trans rights are being stripped away at seemingly every level, HRC is once again pulling back, laying off staff, and “restructuring” rather than resisting.
The timing is not a coincidence. The fight for trans liberation is intensifying, and instead of stepping up, HRC is stepping back. The organisation’s major donors—the same corporate interests it has spent years courting—do not see themselves in the current fight. They were happy to fund the push for marriage equality and workplace protections because those causes were palatable, non-threatening, and profitable. But trans liberation? That’s not something you can package as a feel-good diversity initiative. That’s not something that gets you a high score on the Corporate Equality Index. That requires fighting, and fighting is something HRC has never been willing to do.
This isn’t just institutional cowardice—it’s an effective suppression tactic. HRC operates like a state-sanctioned decoy, absorbing activist energy while ensuring it never becomes revolutionary. If the goal were to squash radical queer organising, pacify trans activism, and redirect movement funding into a corporate lobbying machine that ultimately maintains the existing power structure, what would they be doing differently? Nothing.
The trans community cannot afford to waste energy on institutions that function as controlled opposition. If we want real change, we need to invest in the organisations that are actually fighting for us—trans-led mutual aid networks, radical legal defence funds, and grassroots advocacy groups that do not need corporate America’s approval to exist. We need to stop looking to HRC for leadership and start seeing it for what it is: a machine built to neutralise us.
Side note: Several companies that were previously recognised in the HRC’s Corporate Equality Index have recently begun rolling back their diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) initiatives, largely in response to political pressures and legal challenges. Google has rescinded its goal to increase representation of underrepresented groups in leadership by 30% within five years, aligning with recent executive orders targeting DEI practices. Target announced it would end its “Belonging at the Bullseye” strategy, which included programs supporting Black employees and promoting Black-owned businesses, alongside broader reductions in DEI goals and participation in certain assessments. Walmart has signaled a significant shift away from its previous diversity policies, whilst McDonald’s has curtailed its DEI programs, citing legal risks following recent Supreme Court decisions. Meta Platforms has dismissed its DEI programs in response to shifting political and legal landscapes. Additionally, Ford, Harley-Davidson, and Lowe’s have all announced they would no longer participate in the Corporate Equality Index. These developments illustrate a broader trend of corporations reassessing their DEI commitments as backlash against such initiatives intensifies.
These corporations, once eager to flaunt their high scores on HRC’s CEI, now appear to have got what they paid for and moved on. The CEI was never about structural change—it was about affording corporations a way to buy legitimacy without making meaningful commitments. The moment DEI initiatives became politically inconvenient, these same companies dropped them with little hesitation, proving that their commitments to “equality” were always conditional. If the largest LGBTQ+ advocacy organisation in the U.S. had real power, wouldn’t it be mobilising against these rollbacks? Wouldn’t there be consequences for these companies abandoning the very policies that earned them their perfect scores? Instead, HRC remains silent, its influence exposed as largely performative—a intermediary in a transaction that allowed corporations to purchase goodwill whilst it lasted. This raises the inevitable question: if HRC’s most public-facing initiative, its Corporate Equality Index, holds no real weight, what does it actually accomplish? And more importantly, how does an organisation so deeply intertwined with the priorities of corporate America advance trans liberation, when trans survival itself is increasingly seen as a liability in the boardrooms it courts?
What Comes Next?
We do not need HRC. Their irrelevance is not a loss for trans people—it’s a moment of clarity. The truth is, they were never going to lead us to liberation, because liberation was never their goal. But now that the illusion has fallen away, we have the opportunity to build something real.
What we need is not another corporate-aligned lobbying group, but a revolutionary vanguard—a movement that does not beg for inclusion but demands systemic change. In revolutionary theory, a vanguard is not just a leadership group; it is the organised force that pushes movements beyond incrementalism and into real transformation. It is disciplined, strategic, and uncompromising. A trans vanguard would mean building a cohesive, radical movement that does not seek approval from existing institutions but instead constructs new structures outside of them. It would mean focusing on material support, direct action, legal defence, and community self-sufficiency—rather than trying to fit into a system that was never designed for us.
Real advocacy is already happening—not in boardrooms, but in grassroots mutual aid, underground housing networks, and community-led legal fights. It is happening in trans people organising rent assistance, redistributing resources, providing shelter, and creating their own safety nets because institutions like HRC never will. But there is another reality that must be addressed: trans people are fleeing repressive, regressive states, often with little more than what they can carry. As fascist governments escalate their war on trans existence, relocation itself has become a form of resistance. But survival after relocation requires jobs, housing, and financial support—not just one-time aid, but sustained infrastructure for those forced to flee. A revolutionary vanguard must include systems of solidarity that ensure trans refugees are not just escaping, but rebuilding.
For our allies, this means redirecting energy and resources to organisations that are actually fighting for trans liberation. That means funding mutual aid, not legacy nonprofits. Supporting legal defence funds, not political endorsements. Prioritising trans-led housing networks, community health initiatives, and survival programs over organisations that use trans people for branding but do nothing to protect us.
The question now is: what happens when we stop waiting for mainstream acceptance and start fighting for radical change? What happens when we stop expecting justice from institutions designed to pacify us and instead create our own systems of survival? What happens when we realise that we are all we have—and we are enough? We stop pleading, we stop compromising, and we start building a future where trans liberation is not a marketing slogan, but a material reality. That work is already happening. It’s time to accelerate it.
Final thoughts …
HRC’s restructuring is not just a financial decision—it is proof that mainstream LGB institutions will always prioritise stability over true liberation. The moment trans people became too politically inconvenient, too difficult to defend without consequences, these organisations stepped back. None of them have specifically and emphatically rejected the “LGB Without the T” movement in the present fight, because at their core, they were never built to fight for us. They exist to secure respectability, access, and comfort for those who can assimilate, and trans people—particularly those of us who are poor, racialised, disabled, or otherwise marginalised—have never fit into their vision of equality.
That is why the fight for trans survival and liberation can never depend on organisations that have never truly supported us. We cannot keep looking to institutions that have spent decades using us as talking points while directing resources elsewhere. Their time has passed, and their failures have made one thing clear: the future of trans liberation is ours to build.
We must build something that cannot be abandoned—because it is built by us, for us. Something that does not hinge on corporate sponsorships or political expediency. Something that does not waste time convincing power to accept us but instead creates the conditions for our survival and self-determination outside of their control. A movement that does not retreat when the fight becomes difficult, because the people building it know there is no option but to fight.
If we want real change, we cannot rely on those who have left us behind before. We cannot waste time pleading with organisations that see our survival as an afterthought. The fight ahead is ours—and we must lead it ourselves. Because unlike them, we cannot walk away.