Introduction
I was a sophomore psych major at the University of Toronto when I came across Peterson’s 2nd-year elective. It was 2003. The class caught my attention in the course calendar: it had a 90% re-take rate, which meant that nearly every student who took the class would recommend it. Most psych classes were in the 60–70% range. The class blurb mentioned Freud, Jung, Adler and others, so it was also the only psych course that even hinted at self-development psychology, which interested me more than research psychology. I went for it.
I went on to take all of Peterson’s courses between 2003–2006, and I can’t overstate the positive impact they had on my life. Being exposed to his work during those years was so formative that it’s difficult to imagine what kind of person I’d be like if that hadn’t happened. For years after I graduated, I eagerly introduced friends to his work whenever a conversation revealed a mutual glimmer of interest in questions of life, purpose, and what it means to be a human being.
When the Canadian media and (my friend bubble) began to characterize him as transphobic, I didn’t have any reason to doubt them. I assumed the years had taken their toll and turned him into a crusty old bigot. A real shame. But then I got curious: what’s his problem anyway? What is he actually saying?
