Conversion therapy is not therapy. It is cruelty cloaked in moral pretense, a discredited and destructive practice that has spent decades masquerading as compassion while leaving a trail of broken lives in its wake. For years, a rare unity among medical, mental health, and legal authorities placed it firmly in the category of pseudoscience. Every reputable medical association condemned it. Legislatures across the country acted to outlaw its use on minors. Courts recognized it as fraudulent. Survivors spoke out, laying bare the harm it caused. For a moment in our history, it appeared that this shameful relic had been relegated to the past. Yet here we are, watching it claw its way back into the public sphere, propelled by ideological fervor and a shifting judicial climate that threatens to undo decades of progress.
Understanding why conversion therapy was determined to be detrimental and outlawed requires tracing its history from misguided theory to medical rejection. In the early 20th century, mainstream psychiatry viewed homosexuality as a mental illness, feeding into moral panic and social intolerance. Under this false premise, so-called “treatments” evolved into abusive regimens—electroshock paired with homoerotic images, nausea-inducing drugs, lobotomies, and other grotesque aversion tactics. These were never acts of healing. They were acts of violence disguised as medicine.
The turning point came in 1973 when the American Psychiatric Association removed homosexuality from its Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders. This decision reflected mounting scientific consensus: same-sex attraction was not an illness. Still, the practice persisted. Survivors reported not only emotional devastation but also significantly higher rates of depression, substance use, and suicide attempts. By the 2000s, every major health organization, from the American Medical Association to the American Academy of Child and Adolescent Psychiatry, had issued unequivocal condemnations. The verdict was absolute—conversion therapy is ineffective, unethical, and dangerous.
These condemnations spurred legislative action. In 2012, California became the first state to ban conversion therapy for minors, setting off a wave of similar laws. Today, more than 20 states and the District of Columbia have enacted full bans for licensed providers, while several others have partial restrictions. These laws are not merely symbolic gestures; they send an unambiguous message that LGBTQ+ identities are not defects to be repaired. They are also public health protections, shielding young people from coercive “treatment” that medical science has debunked.
The legal system added weight to the medical consensus. In Ferguson v. JONAH (2015), a New Jersey court used consumer fraud statutes to hold a conversion therapy organization liable for false advertising and fraudulent practices. The ruling forced the group to shut down and pay damages, cementing the argument that conversion therapy is not only scientifically invalid but legally deceptive.
The human toll is staggering. Survivors speak of lifelong struggles with self-worth, trust, and identity. The Trevor Project estimates that hundreds of thousands of LGBTQ adults in the United States have been subjected to conversion therapy, and thousands more are at risk without protective laws. Research also quantifies the societal cost—nearly \$9.23 billion annually in mental health care, lost productivity, and other damages. The harm is personal and collective, emotional and economic.
The convergence of medical rejection, legislative bans, and legal precedent should have been the death knell for conversion therapy. Yet in recent years, the political and cultural climate has shifted, emboldening those who seek to resurrect it. This resurgence is not organic—it is a deliberate campaign. Conservative-controlled legislatures in states like Kentucky have overridden gubernatorial bans, framing their actions as protections for parental rights. Courts, now populated with more conservative judges, are increasingly receptive to challenges framed as free speech or religious liberty issues. The U.S. Supreme Court’s decision to hear a case challenging Colorado’s ban could reshape the national legal landscape, potentially unraveling protections in place for over a decade.
Proponents of this revival have become more strategic in their rhetoric. They speak not of “curing” homosexuality but of “talk therapy,” “biblical counseling,” or “sexual attraction fluidity exploration.” They argue that bans infringe on their right to offer faith-based guidance, ignoring the inherent coercion when minors are subjected to these practices at the insistence of parents, pastors, or community leaders. In Virginia, a court ruling has already allowed state-licensed counselors to resume such talk-based practices, blurring the lines between voluntary religious conversation and state-sanctioned psychological harm.
The fight is also expanding into anti-trans activism. Organizations that once targeted only gay and lesbian individuals now fold conversion efforts into broader campaigns against gender-affirming care for transgender youth. By positioning themselves as defenders of “traditional values,” these groups attempt to normalize coercive practices as reasonable alternatives to evidence-based care.
The geography of protections against conversion therapy remains uneven. While nearly half of U.S. LGBTQ youth live in states with bans, the rest are scattered across states with partial restrictions or no protections at all. Some states have even passed preemption laws to prevent municipalities from enacting local bans, ensuring that no sanctuary can exist within their borders. This patchwork of protections creates fertile ground for revivalists to operate, often moving their efforts into less regulated jurisdictions.
The return of conversion therapy is not just a policy failure—it is a moral collapse. It signals a willingness to ignore decades of scientific evidence in favor of ideology. It suggests that the lessons learned from survivors’ pain can be forgotten when politically expedient. And it confirms that rights, once won, are never immune to erosion.
The path forward demands relentless vigilance. Medical organizations must continue to speak with one voice, reinforcing that there is no therapeutic justification for attempting to change a person’s sexual orientation or gender identity. Legislators in protective states must close loopholes that allow unlicensed or religious practitioners to operate without oversight. Courts must remember that free speech does not protect fraud, and religious freedom does not justify harm.
Survivors’ voices are essential in this fight. Their testimonies strip away the rhetoric and reveal the truth: conversion therapy does not heal, it wounds. Brandon Long, who endured years of such sessions as a teenager, put it plainly—no child enters conversion therapy willingly. They are sent there because a trusted authority tells them they are broken. That is not choice. It is coercion dressed up as care.
Allowing conversion therapy to regain a foothold in our laws and communities is more than a step backward; it is an act of deliberate cruelty. The choice before us is stark. We can stand by as ideology reshapes policy and erases protections, or we can hold fast to the truth affirmed by science, law, and human experience: LGBTQ+ people are not problems to be fixed. They are human beings deserving of dignity, authenticity, and the freedom to live without the shadow of shame.
The resurgence of conversion therapy is a test of our societal integrity. We either reject it with the full force of our moral and legal authority, or we risk consigning another generation to the same needless suffering that survivors have endured for far too long.
