"Just leave Christmas": Barnaby Joyce fires up over gender-neutral cookies
Some stories are big: wars, elections, pandemics. Others are tiny – crispy, vaguely human-shaped and destined for dunking in tea.
The humble Gingerbread Man – or rather, its gender-neutral successor, the Gingerbread Person – has sent shockwaves through Parliament House and left a trail of crumbs all the way to the nearest bakery.
The biscuit's modern makeover has Barnaby Joyce and Nationals Senator Matt Canavan crying "Save Christmas!" faster than you can say, "Not my gumdrop buttons!"
While many of us would struggle to find outrage over baked goods – especially baked goods with no opinion on pronouns – Joyce sees a far darker picture. For him, this is political correctness gone so far off the rails it could inspire an army of ginger-fuelled Trump supporters.
“It’s just like, all this stuff has been forced on me, just leave it,” he declared, presumably staring down a gender-neutral cookie in his local parliamentary cafeteria. “Just leave Christmas. If you don’t want to buy Gingerbread men, you don’t have to.” Then, proving politicians aren’t immune to comedic flair, he added: “Can I have one for me and one for it on table 3?”
Meanwhile, Senator Canavan was equally distraught at the development, lamenting the apparent death of whimsy. “Please tell me they haven’t done this to the muffin man as well?” he begged, as if imagining a bleak future where fairytale characters are stripped of gender and fun.
If you thought Parliament was alone in this existential ginger-crisis, think again. Supermarket giant Woolworths has already abandoned the “man” for a more inclusive “Gingerbread People”, and even Women’s Weekly, that wholesome bastion of baking, has shared a recipe for the modern, genderless cookie.
It was Woolworths' decision that drew particular ire from a radio caller named Harry, who tattled to Melbourne’s 3AW like a child narking on a sibling. “Woolies has decided to start selling – under their own brand – non-binary Gingerbread people,” he reported solemnly.
This news rocked radio host Tom Elliott, who lamented that none of the gingerbread figures “resemble women”. (For clarity’s sake, it’s worth noting that Gingerbread Men have never been renowned for their realistic depiction of human anatomy.)
Online, the social media masses weighed in with their usual measured, level-headed takes. One user proclaimed they were “too busy caring about my electricity bill doubling” to give a crumb about cookies. Another’s sarcastic sympathy dripped from the screen: “If you can’t handle a biscuit with ‘man’ in the name, simply grab a box of tissues and retreat to your safe space.”
And in the darkest corner of the internet, one person’s exasperation boiled over: “Jesus Christ. It’s a biscuit vaguely shaped like a human. Do we need to make a biscuit gender neutral so we don’t offend people?”
Let’s face it: the Gingerbread Man is not, and has never been, the hill anyone expected society to die on. It doesn’t vote, drive or go to Centrelink. It’s a biscuit. Yet, here we are, watching as Barnaby Joyce and Matt Canavan rise like knights to defend a sugary snack from the insidious forces of progress.
Does the average person truly care if their Gingerbread Man identifies as a Gingerbread Person? Is anyone truly shaking with rage while browsing the supermarket biscuit aisle? Or are most of us too busy, well, eating them?
In the end, we must ask ourselves the hard questions: Will the Muffin Man survive the purge? Is Santa’s reindeer team next? And most importantly: if they’re still delicious, does it even matter?
For now, the only certainty is that political correctness has officially reached the snack table. Somewhere, a batch of gender-neutral gingerbread people is cooling, blissfully unaware that their mere existence has triggered a full-scale political bake-off.
And so, in the spirit of the festive season – let’s agree to eat the biscuit and leave the outrage for another day.
Images: Supplied