In 2016 the United States seemed poised to extend civil-rights protections to transgender Americans. The Department of Justice filed a lawsuit against North Carolina’s HB2 – widely known as the “bathroom bill” – calling it a modern form of Jim-Crow segregation. Within months the law was repealed, sparking hopes that a new era of gender-identity protections had begun.
From hopeful repeal to a decade of rollback
That optimism quickly faded. Over the next ten years, state legislatures and ballot initiatives across the political spectrum introduced restrictions that mirror, and often exceed, the original HB2 provisions. Kansas and Idaho enacted bathroom statutes without the massive corporate boycotts that hit North Carolina in 2016. In Idaho, a person who uses a restroom that does not match the sex listed on their birth certificate now faces a misdemeanor charge punishable by up to one year in jail, with a second offense escalating to a felony carrying a five-year maximum.
Federal policy shifts reinforced the state-level trend. The Obama administration had issued memoranda extending Title IX, military service, and healthcare nondiscrimination to transgender people. The Trump administration systematically rescinded those guidances, sending a clear signal that legal protections could be undone. Experts such as Shelby Chestnut of the Transgender Law Center warned that the federal roll-back would embolden anti-trans legislation, a warning that proved prescient.
Midterm elections reveal a paradoxical landscape
The 2026 midterm elections, celebrated as a “blue wave,” illustrated a stark contradiction. While Democratic candidates secured numerous victories, a wave of anti-trans ballot measures passed in traditionally liberal states—including Arizona, Nebraska, Washington and Colorado. Colorado’s Proposition 134, approved by a 53 % majority, bans transgender student-athletes from competing in any sport that aligns with their gender identity from kindergarten through college in institutions receiving state funds. Similar amendments in other states threaten access to gender-affirming surgery for minors and impose invasive medical restrictions.
Even some newly elected Democrats echoed trans-phobic talking points. Ohio Governor-elect Amy Acton, South Carolina Senate-candidate Annie Andrews, and Texas Senate-candidate James Talarico all publicly opposed transgender participation in women’s sports. Advocacy groups such as the ACLU and The Trevor Project described the outcome as a “paradox,” noting that public hostility can coexist with electoral success for LGBTQ+ allies.
UK LGBTQ+ charities confront a funding crunch
Across the Atlantic, the charitable sector serving LGBTQ+ communities faces a different, but equally alarming, crisis. A recent analysis of more than 770 organisations revealed an 8.6 % real-terms decline in funding between 2023 and 2025, dropping total identified support to £53.3 million. This translates to just 5 p of every £100 donated to charities nationwide, down from 6 p two years earlier.
The report also highlighted the fragility of the funding ecosystem: twenty funders account for 88 % of all identified income. When a handful of sponsors shift priorities, the impact ripples through services that already operate on shoestring budgets. Demand for assistance is rising sharply—72 % of surveyed groups reported more people seeking help. Small, grassroots organisations are especially strained; sixty percent admit they often dip into personal finances to keep programs running, while staff and volunteers grapple with burnout in an increasingly hostile social climate.
Emma Miller-McCaffrey, development manager at the LGBT+ Fund, warned that the sector is “at breaking point.” She called for immediate, expanded investment to sustain vital services ranging from mental-health counseling to community outreach. Heather Paterson of the LGBT+ Consortium added that some funders are receiving negative public feedback for supporting LGBTQ+ causes, further jeopardising the flow of resources.
Both the US legislative backslide and the UK charity funding squeeze signal a broader retreat from the momentum generated after the 2015 *Obergefell v. Hodges* decision. While the legal victory ushered in a brief surge of anti-discrimination initiatives, the subsequent decade has witnessed a coordinated political and cultural push that has turned transgender rights into a flashpoint for legislative restriction and financial austerity.
For activists on the ground, the twin challenges demand a dual strategy: legal advocacy to contest restrictive laws and a renewed fundraising push to keep community lifelines open. As the landscape continues to evolve, the resilience of transgender individuals and LGBTQ+ organisations will hinge on their ability to navigate an increasingly adversarial environment.
