A group called the Association for Genital Integrity has added its voice to the anti-circumcision chorus. It wants to have the circumcision of boys banned on the grounds that the practice violates the Charter of Rights and Freedoms. Doubtless, the group was encouraged by the Ontario Human Rights Commission, which two weeks ago amended its policy with regard to circumcision at the urging of organizations Intact and the Circumcision Information Resource Centre. The commission once correctly held that circumcision caused no damage to the penis and presented minimal danger. But in a gesture of knee-jerk obeisance to political correctness, the body now includes a statement flagging concern over the routine surgery.

To the commission's credit, it refused to link male circumcision with the abominable practice of female genital mutilation as the anti-circumcisionists, including the Association for Genital Integrity, would have liked. There can be no comparison between the two surgeries. Female circumcision, which is practised on adolescents, is a traumatic and medically dangerous procedure rooted in the primitive belief that women should not enjoy sex. Male circumcision, by contrast, is not, on balance, medically dangerous; does not reduce male sexual sensation; and induces no trauma beyond that which abuse groups invent.

Still, anti-circumcisionists are rejoicing at their partial victory and so, perhaps, is McGill University bioethicist Margot Somerville who not too long ago pronounced circumcision a form of "criminal assault." All anti-circumcision proponents would like to see legislation passed banning the practice.

What is it about the snippage of these few crepey millimetres of skin that makes circumcision the magnet for such a shower of ideological filings? In my own culturally formative years, circumcision was hailed as man's best prophylactic bet against infection, a sine qua non for priapic hygiene, and a sexual perk, the tonsured penis supposedly offering more sensual pleasure to its host and more aesthetic charm to its guests than any bacteria-ridden rival possibly could. The Queen of England's sons, in fact, were circumcised by London's chief mohel.

What distinguishes circumcision from the cornucopia of social issues currently tumbling along the conveyor belt of public debate is, clearly, the religious - that is to say -- the Jewish question. Historically, circumcision has been practised widely in Africa, South America and the Middle East. But in the Jewish faith, it is also a non-negotiable rite of initiation. It represents in the flesh the Jews' covenant with God, and as a symbol carries massive psychological freight. This is not a secret fraternity handshake we are talking about, but the passing of the cultural torch from one generation to the next.

Unless and until scientists discover -- God forbid -- a causal link between circumcision and cancer, you will not find many Jewish parents comparison shopping for other opinions on the matter.

In a democracy, no social topic is too trivial to discuss privately or publicly, it goes without saying. But let us focus for a moment on what is fit for a discussion in the public forum with a view to legislative change. In these cases, we are revisiting the entrenched rights and liberties of citizens. The cost/benefit of pitting the state against a 4,000-year-old religious tradition should weigh heavily with any public figure or organization advocating its abolition. Organizations such as Intact, the Circumcision Information Resource Centre and -- how can I type this without smirking -- the Association for Genital Integrity fecklessly conflate the "abuse" of male circumcision with female genital mutilation. We should not pay them the compliment of serious attention.

It seems to me that once upon a time public debate around "abuse" sprang from horror stories of children being beaten, starved or caged in a cellar. Now public ire is aroused when a parent spanks his own child. Humiliation used to mean African-Americans being denied entry to white schools. Now it is applied to 15-year old girls with small breasts. Pain used to be broken limbs and floggings; now it is circumcision. If we cannot distinguish what is lasting and significant from what is ephemeral and trivial, then we banalize the experience of those who truly suffer in this world.

Anti-circumcision groups' main concern seems to be the procedure occurring to the penis "without the consent of its owner," as one anti-circ Web site puts it. What can we expect to see next in the mini-kingdom of kvetch where the anti-circumcisionists presently have the spotlight? The humiliation and shock of baptism without the baby's consent? Perhaps baptism is not mutilation, but surely it can be called psychic pain of a sort to leave a lasting impression? Some of those Catholic babies look and sound mighty unhappy to me with the holy water dribbling over their tiny unprotected heads. Infant ear-piercing? The trauma of the first haircut?

If Intact and CIRC and the Association for Genital Integrity wish to peddle their psychic anguish over their lost foreskins in the public forum, let them do so with vigour on their Web sites, in op-eds, or even, or especially, on Oprah. But unless they have irrefutable proof that circumcision is a physical hazard, they have no business harassing human rights commissions or taking this issue to the courts. To paraphrase a famous Shalom Aleichem saying, I would say to Intact and CIRC and the Association for Genital Integrity, 'So if you have manhood issues, why should the Jews feel guilty?'