Political Digest, Volume 1

Volume 1

Political Digest

May 2024

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Letter from the Editors

Dear Readers,

This May 2024 volume is a culmination of student work over the past year representing some of the best and brightest of Queen’s Political Studies community. The works in this journal are thoughtful, well written, and critical of the world we’re surrounded by. Our phenomenal authors have written on a variety of topics across political sub-disciplines, including U.S. and Canadian Foreign Policy, Colonialism, Distributive Justice, Feminist International Relations, and more.

This very first volume represents the tireless effort of every individual within the journal. We must first give thanks to our editorial team, whose evaluations of our undergraduate submissions have shaped the work you read within these pages. Political Digest and the work it platforms would not be what it is without the dedicated work of these individuals.

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Cordelia Jamieson & Alexandria Moustakis Political Digest Editors in Chief, 2023-2024

Land Acknowledgment

Political Digest 2023-2024 Team

Letter from the Editors

Limits of Middle-Power Diplomacy: A Poststructuralist Account of the Influence of U.S. Securitization of the ‘China Threat’ on Sino-Canadian Relations

Kelly Buell

Involuntary Pregnancy Ought to be Considered Forced Labour: A Critical Analysis of Dobbs v. Jackson and U.S. Labour Laws

Lauren Kidd

Limited Seats in the Lifeboat: Distributive Justice and Associational Duties as Triaging Principles in Forced Migrant Admissions

Margaret Cavanagh-Wall

Responses to the Masculine State: Examining Black Feminist Transnational Organizing Throughout the Centuries

Limits of Middle-Power Diplomacy:

A Poststructuralist Account of the Influence of U.S. Securitization of the

‘China

Threat’ on Sino-Canadian Relations

Kelly Buell

Introduction

In May 2015, China’s State Council revealed its newest national initiative ‘Made in China 2025,’ containing a plan to transform manufacturing sectors through the development of 10 high-tech industries. Funnelling government-subsidized investment into high-tech industries such as energy-powered vehicles, next-generation technology (IT) and telecommunications, advanced robotics, and artificial intelligence (AI), the goal of this state-led plan is to reduce Chinese dependency on foreign technology and move towards the establishment of China as the dominant high-tech manufacturer in the global marketplace (McBride and Chatzky 2019). Aligning with contemporary Chinese economic policies, this announcement reignited the debate concerning whether China poses an increased security risk to states, particularly those considered to represent potential impediments to China’s rise as a great power. The subject of this debate is not new but rather contributes to the discourse which has come to be known as the ‘China threat.’ Traced back over a century, the China threat discourse has evolved from initially focusing on threats associated with China’s cultural and social factors to encompassing threats that extend into the political realm (Song 2015). Over the past two decades, the U.S. has been at the forefront of utilizing the China threat rhetoric, publicly criticizing their foreign policy, human rights, and adherence to international trade rules. The U.S. has strategically framed its rhetoric on China, particularly emphasizing security challenges arising from advancements in technologies and the unforeseen vulnerabilities they introduce (Gendron 2013). Notably, predating the ‘Made in China 2025,’ the U.S. employed securitization methods in disseminating the China threat discourse. As a theory, securitization concerns the social construction of a threat and the responses to that threat, emphasizing the political processes that make something a security issue (Friis and Lysne 2021).

The use of securitization and the China threat rhetoric by the U.S. has received increasing academic attention in the last decade. These scholarly debates have tended to focus on whether China poses a real threat to U.S. national security, followed by policy recommendations to stabilize the future of Sino-American relations. While informative for understanding American security interests, there remains a critical gap in understanding the extent to which Sino-American relations influence and impact other state foreign policy with China. Seeking to close this gap in the literature, this paper contributes to existing academic debates in the cybersecurity space by analyzing the breadth of U.S. influence on Canada’s foreign policy decisions with China. Canada’s middle position in world politics makes it a compelling object of study, stuck between navigating diplomatic ties with two major economic powerhouses. Using poststructuralist securitization theory, this paper will argue that the U.S.’ persistent securitization of China, alongside a “with-us-or-against-us” attitude, has significantly shaped Canada’s shift from diplomatic engagement to confrontational strategies, exemplified by the ban on Huawei 5G infrastructure in May 2022, thereby highlighting the profound influence of the U.S. and underscoring Canada’s challenges as a middle-power in navigating relations with China.

The remainder of this paper will be divided into four sections. As the core theoretical approach, the first section introduces securitization theory and how its use as a political strategy supports the expansion of the China threat discourse. The following section analyzes the pattern of U.S. securitization of China using three case studies, namely Titan Rain, the China National Offshore Oil Corporation (CNOOC), and Huawei, to better understand U.S. success towards shifting public and private perceptions of China as a threat to national security. The third section closely decade-long evolution of Sino-Canadian relations, fo-

cusing on the transition from engagement to confrontation, and delves into the substantial influence of the U.S., exemplified by the arrest of Meng Wanzhou and Canada’s ban on Huawei 5G infrastructure. Lastly, this paper explores the future of Sino-Canadian relations through an analysis of Canada’s Indo-Pacific Strategy, mirroring that of the U.S. and reflecting rising tensions.

Securitization Theory and the China Threat Rhetoric

The emergence of securitization theory has been attributed to the Copenhagen School and, more specifically, the work of Barry Buzan, Ole Waever, and Jaap de Wilde in the 1990s. This approach was created for the purpose of understanding the process by which something comes to be understood as a threat, moving from the domain of politics into that of security (Buzan and Waever 2009). For this process to take place, securitization involves four components: a securitizing actor, securitizing moves, an audience, and a referent object. According to the authors, this process is initiated through a speech act and occurs when “a securitizing actor uses a rhetoric of existential threat and thereby takes an issue out of what under those conditions is normal politics” (Campion 2020, 49). It is important to note securitization itself does not constitute success, but rather remains dependent on whether the implementation of emergency measures is accepted by the audience.

Securitization theory is considered multidimensional pertaining to various levels of analysis, degrees of comprehensiveness, and the extent of success in convincing the respective audience (Friis and Lysne 2021). Moreover, while the referent object is traditionally recognized to be the state, the multidimensional nature of securitization recognizes that anything may be constructed as a referent object. The emergence of the China threat discourse and use of rhetoric can thus be understood as a product of securitization. With an initial focus on cultural and social threats in the China threat discourse, scholars such as Oliver Turner highlight ideational factors in constructing foreign Chinese identity as a threat to the security of Western identity (Turner 2013). While the U.S. remains the securitizing actor, contemporary securitization methods often

highlight the material and technological dimension of threats––framing Huawei as a threat to a new referent object, American national security. Regardless of the referent object, the fear associated with Chinese identity and cyber espionage activity has created a dominant Western perception of China. Transcending U.S. borders, the portrayal of China as a threat constitutes a successful case of macrosecuritization by the U.S.. In this context, macrosecuritization refers to security narratives that extend beyond the conventional units at the middle level, such as states or nations, elevating the impact of securitization to a broader order. Rather than indicating whether China poses a real threat to U.S. national security, these dominant Western perceptions of China as an ‘other’ demonstrate more about Western self-imagination and the desire for certainty in foreign relations (Song 2015).

The social construction of Chinese ‘otherness’ constitutes a poststructuralist account which is crucial to foster an understanding of American influence on other states. Rather than treating identity as objectively given, poststructuralist accounts seek to reveal underlying forces which influence the formation and acceptance of such identities (Song 2015). When analyzing the emergence of the China threat through poststructuralism, Weiqing Song provides an excellent account, identifying three modes of discursive securitization by actors: scientific theory, normative analogy, and political myth. Song (2015) articulates that securitization using scientific reasoning is applied “as an explanation of the behaviour of great powers that seek to gain as much power as possible over their rivals” (154). When described as a trend rooted in scientific theory, the audience is likely to accept the securitizing claim. Normative modes of securitization may draw on historical analogies and the politics of identity to emphasize the duality of human experiences, depicting China as unusual and dangerous, and the West as normal and proper. It is common for normative securitizing actors to address a large, attentive, and well-educated audience, who “find concrete examples and precedents from history to be rhetorically persuasive” (Song 2015, 158). An example of such is the New York Times, operating as a legitimate international forum for the dissemination of knowledge pertaining to current world issues. By strategically framing issues through identity politics, the New York Times

presents China as unconventional while portraying the West as the standard. Lastly, Song demonstrates how securitizing actors have used political myths in framing China as a threat, addressing the general public to maximize reach. When articulating a political myth, it matters not that the information articulated is factual, but rather that the audience is successfully persuaded, and ultimately convinced, that something is a security threat which requires urgent action by the state (Song 2015).

In general, a securitization act is only successful if it achieves the intended effect. While the intended effects of securitizing actors have shifted over time, the near-consistent dissemination of the China threat has produced an overwhelmingly dominant perception of China as dangerous to the West, providing acceptance and justification for policy implications by securitizing actors. Therefore, when choosing between a particular mode of discursive securitization to construct something as a threat, securitizing actors should be recognized as making a political, rather than analytical, decision (Eriksson 1999). The purpose of the following section is to better understand such political objectives by analyzing different cases of U.S. securitization of China over the last two decades.

U.S. Securitization of China: Titan Rain, CNOOC, and Huawei

As a former hegemon, the U.S. has successfully disseminated knowledge regarding the superiority of Western ideology, culture, economics, and political democratic systems around the world. Accelerated by the Scientific and Industrial Revolutions, the rapid development of the West was often compared to the overall stagnation of foreign regions such as China (Campion 2020). However, shifting Chinese economic policies in the 90s resulted in the expansion of the China threat discourse. Rather than displays of confidence in strengthening U.S. security, the states’ inflated use of the China threat rhetoric signalled increasing fear and hostility regarding China’s rise. Over the past two decades, China’s rise and subsequent responses by the U.S. have created a dominant Western perception of China which remains rooted in such fear. Considering this historical pattern and increasing hostility in contemporary Sino-American diplomacy,

the U.S. is considered to be the predominant securitizing actor in the West. The remainder of this section will analyze three distinct cases whereby the U.S. successfully securitized China which, when analyzed together, demonstrate a pattern of choices rather than a mere occurrence. Moreover, the success of such securitization of China by the U.S., rather than being predicated on any singular event, should be recognized as the cumulative result of the China threat rhetoric.

Case Study 1: Titan Rain

In 2005, Titan Rain became the first instance of state-sponsored Chinese espionage released to the public. The report indicated China-based hackers were successful in accessing networks of the U.S. Department of State, Homeland Security, and Energy, resulting in the estimated theft of between 10-20 terabytes of U.S. intelligence data between 2003 and 2005 (Scissors and Bucci 2012). For the first time, Titan Rain triggered attempts to reduce the extent by which Chinese cyber operations could adequately target U.S. markets and has thus become recognized as the instance by which Sino-American distrust and suspicion took shape.

Under a poststructuralist account of securitization, Titan Rain aligns with scientific theory as its mode of securitization. The revelation of state-sponsored Chinese cyber espionage supports the narrative which emphasizes the pursuit of power and control. Simultaneously, Titan Rain aligns with Song’s (2015) articulation of normative analogy by framing China’s actions as deviating from accepted norms, reinforcing the duality of experiences between China and the West.

Case Study 2: China National Offshore Oil

Corporation (CNOOC)

Later that year, the China National Offshore Oil Corporation (CNOOC) attempted the acquisition of U.S.-based Oil Company, Unocal, for $18.5 billion (Campion 2020). Despite being a commercially attractive opportunity, feelings of fresh skepticism toward China ultimately influenced the U.S.’ decision to decline CNOOC’s request for acquisition. When providing justification, U.S. elites claimed that

China’s acquisition of Unocal presented a threat to American national security. This was particularly due to CNOOC’s qualification as a state-owned enterprise (SOE), which not only provided an innate link to the Chinese government, but simultaneously created an unfair comparative advantage via accessing non-market capital. Rather than demonstrating an abrupt shift to exceptional security politics, as often articulated by securitization theory, the U.S.’ refusal to sell Unocal due to national security threats remained in the realm of normal politics, simultaneously protecting its own economic and security interests (Campion 2020). Under poststructuralist securitization theory, the CNOOC case exemplifies normative analogy as a mode of securitization by drawing upon historical precedents and identity politics. The rejection of the acquisition bid by the U.S. reflects this normative securitization approach, tapping into historical analogies and identity politics to successfully portray China as threatening due to its status as an SOE.

Case Study 3: Huawei

In the years following 2005, the China threat rhetoric continued to circulate in the U.S., setting a precedent for future responses to Sino-American relations. In 2010, the Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) released a risk-mitigation statement, warning the public that Chinese companies could pose a threat to the U.S. (Friis and Lysne 2021). Two years later, the U.S. House Intelligence Committee accused Huawei of stealing American intellectual property (IP) and urged the U.S. government to block Huawei from further contracts and acquisitions to reduce risks associated with espionage activity. Despite Huawei officials repeated denial and demand for proof of U.S. accusations, a combination of growing Sino-American economic competition and strengthening public perceptions of China as dangerous made the successful operation of Huawei difficult in the U.S..

Rising Sino-American tensions were exacerbated following the election of President Donald Trump in 2016 and the establishment of the Chinese Intelligence Law in 2017. During his 2016 Campaign and official Presidency, Trump remained consistent in his personal perception of China and his vision for Sino-American relations. Aiming to reduce the $346

billion trade deficit, Trump pursued a confrontational approach with China in areas of trade, industrial production, and the imposition of tariffs (Bratt 2021). While Trump’s China threat rhetoric remained inconspicuous during his first year in power, the 2017 Chinese Intelligence Law prompted a response by the Trump administration which took on a securitizing hue. The establishment of this law, in effect, legally obliges all Chinese companies to turn over information to, and comply with, China’s intelligence and security services (Friis and Lysne 2021). Rather than empty accusations by the U.S. regarding China’s pursuit of clandestine foreign espionage through Huawei, the Chinese Intelligence Law enforced such sharing of information which legitimized constructions of Huawei, and by extension China, as a potential threat to American national security. Less than a year later, the U.S. successfully banned Huawei 5G infrastructure and simultaneously placed Huawei on an entities list, thereby restricting the ability of the telecommunications company to purchase American products. In addition to securitization at the state-level, the U.S. embarked on a global macrosecuritization campaign to oppose foreign implementation of Huawei 5G infrastructure, arguing that its use not only threatens national security but compromises any intelligence sharing between states (Friis and Lysne 2021). Compared to these traditional scopes of securitization, macrosecuritization broadens the dimension between the securitizing actor and the audience, raising the possibility of multiple audiences across many units (Buzan and Waever 2009). Thus, the US’ macrosecuritization of Huawei greatly influenced the foreign policies of each member state to the Five Eyes. As the final member state to restrict or ban Huawei 5G infrastructure, the following section examines Canada’s shifting Chinese foreign policy to better understand the breadth of U.S. influence as the main securitizing actor in the West.

Following poststructuralist securitization theory, the U.S. employs political myth in its securitization and macrosecuritization of Huawei, crafting a narrative that may not be firmly grounded in factual evidence but, instead, seeks to convince the public of the urgency to address the perceived threat. Simultaneously, the dominant portrayal of Huawei as dangerous and straying from accepted norms in Western states reflects the presence of normative analogy as a tool

of securitization under poststructuralist securitization theory.

Shifting Sino-Canadian Relations: Engagement to Confrontation

Contemporary Sino-Canadian relations have been criticized as being at their lowest point in recent years, characterized by securitization scholars as the shift from engagement to confrontation (Lim 2020). As a middle-power in world politics, Canada recognizes its constraint compared to the U.S. in terms of influence, economic, and military power. However, despite the improbability that Canada would influence Chinese behaviour, the shift from quiet diplomatic engagement to confrontation raises significant questions for Canada. By exploring Sino-Canadian relations since the beginning of Trudeau’s tenure in 2015, the remainder of this section will analyze and reveal the nature of U.S. influence on Canadian foreign policy with China.

With the ultimate aim to increase prosperity for Canadians at home, Trudeau attempted to expand Sino-Canadian economic engagement on both diplomatic and commercial fronts. The most substantial example of diplomatic engagement followed a meeting between Premier Li Keqiang and Trudeau in 2018, whereby “both sides pledged to expand trade to launch exploratory discussions for a possible Canada-China Free Trade Agreement (FTA) and to expand links between individual Canadian government departments and their Chinese counterparts” (Lim 2020, 28). Among many others, this meeting fostered the goal of doubling bilateral trade by 2025, based on 2015 statistics. On the commercial front, the Liberal Government’s use of the 1985 Investment Canada Act (ICA), which allowed the Canadian government to conduct national security reviews of foreign investment that could be blocked or authorized and subject to certain conditions, also strengthened Sino-Canadian engagement. One of the most significant national security reviews was Hong Kong’s O-Net Communications proposed acquisition of Montreal-based ITF Technologies in 2017. While initially blocked by Trudeau’s predecessor in 2015 due to national security fears regarding the Chinese firm’s partial ownership by an SOE, Trudeau’s Liberal Government overturned this

decision, approving the acquisition subject to certain conditions (Lim 2020).

While engagement was fostered on economic and diplomatic fronts between China and Canada at the start of Trudeau’s tenure, it did not prove to be entirely sustainable in 2018 when Canada confronted Chinese issues related to human rights, adherence to international trade laws, and espionage activity. Following the United Nations (UN) report in 2018, which condemned China’s role in the detainment of one million Uighurs in internment camps in Xinjiang, Canadian political elites broke traditional quiet diplomacy and demonstrated concern over such human rights. While Trudeau was initially criticized in his response to continue developing an FTA with China, Liberal members have since voted to label these actions a genocide (Cecco 2021).

Later in 2018, Sino-Canadian relations dominated headlines following the arrest of Meng Wanzhou, Huawei’s CFO and daughter of Huawei founder, at the Vancouver Airport. The arrest followed a U.S. extradition request, by which Canada was bound, on the suspicion that Meng violated U.S. sanctions with Iran. Transpiring only a few months after the U.S. banned Huawei 5G infrastructure, the Chinese embassy in Ottawa was quick to blame the arrest on U.S.-Canada political conspiracy (Bratt 2021). Moreover, to re-establish political power, the Chinese government detained two Canadian citizens, Michael Spavor and Michael Kovrig, only two days following the arrest in Vancouver. While independent of concerns related to 5G security or Huawei, the mutual arrests prompted a public response from Trudeau, sparking a series of economic sanctions against Canada as well as raising security tensions and political strains on Sino-Canadian relations.

The strained Sino-Canadian relationship was also tested by the U.S.’ securitization of Huawei as a threat to American national security. In addition to securitization at the state-level, which informed Canadian public opinion as well as that of Americans, the U.S.’ choice to macro-securitize China via a global anti-Huawei campaign presented Canada with a difficult choice. Strengthened by a bipartisan response, American Congressmen across both parties opposed

the inclusion of Huawei in Canada’s 5G infrastructure, “arguing that its involvement would make America vulnerable” (MacDonald and Kapelos 2019).

The U.S.’ “with-us-or-against-us” attitude presented Canada with an ultimatum, forcing the state to choose between salvaging economic relations with China or maintaining national security with its U.S. ally and intelligence services such as the Five Eyes. Despite receiving warnings from China, such as the threatening message from China’s ambassador to Canada, Cong Peiwu, stating Canada would “pay a price for their erroneous deeds and actions” if it were to pursue the ban against Huawei, Canada ultimately decided to align with its closest ally and the remaining Five Eyes countries (Boynton 2022). Canada made the official decision to ban Huawei 5G telecommunications from infrastructure in May 2022. Given the heavy investment in Huawei infrastructure across Canada, this decision will undoubtedly make telecommunications more expensive across the country (Carvin 2021). However, Trudeau has claimed “his government took the time needed to ensure the decision to ban Huawei would keep Canadians and the economy safe” (Zimonjic 2022). Reducing vulnerability to Chinese espionage activity is considered crucial for the overall safety, stability, and future prosperity in the West.

Canada’s Indo-Pacific Strategy: Rising Tensions and Ambiguity

Due to the recent nature of Canada’s choice to ban Huawei 5G infrastructure, it is difficult to foresee the consequences on the future of Sino-Canadian relations. However, Canada’s recent publication of the 2022 Indo-Pacific Strategy provides clarification regarding Canada’s intentions for foreign policy decisions and future relations with China. Despite describing China as an increasingly disruptive global power, Canada ultimately refers to China as necessary “to address some of the world’s existential pressures, such as climate change and biodiversity loss, global health and nuclear proliferation” (Brewster 2022). Additionally, Canada proposed revisions to the Investment Canada Act (ICA) which will ensure protection over national security by preventing SOEs and other foreign entities from acquiring Canadian industries and intellectual property. According to a CBC publication, Canadian intentions for foreign policy mirror the U.S.’

most recent vision for engagement, demonstrating the weight of American influence in designing Canadian foreign policy decisions (Brewster 2022). Related to the similar intentions with its U.S. ally, Canada’s Indo-Pacific Strategy reflects the lasting impacts of international clashes and rising tensions governing Sino-Canadian relations. Most prominently, these include the arrest and extradition of Meng Wanzhou and China’s retaliatory detention of Spavor and Kovrig, as well as Xi Jinping’s recent conversation with Prime Minister Trudeau at the G20 summit in Bali, Indonesia in November 2022.

In addition to the detainment of two Canadian citizens, China retaliated against the arrest of Meng Wanzhou by imposing a series of economic sanctions on Canadian exports to China. Often perceived as a punishment for small countries who butt heads with Beijing, China’s imposition of sanctions on Canadian canola oil and meat products resulted in a loss of $4.5 billion in exports in 2019 (Lim 2020; Bratt 2021). Chinese contention with Canada remained evident three years later during a conversation between leaders at the G20 summit in Nov. 2022, where President Xi Jinping was recorded publicly scolding Prime Minister Trudeau over accusations related to leaking private conversations to the media. This leaked material pertained to China’s clandestine funding of 11 candidates during the 2019 Federal Election. Acting outside of ordinary diplomatic relations with other G20 countries, Saint-Jacques told CBC that “Xi’s purpose was to make Trudeau lose face publicly at home and around the world” and noted that this very well could introduce new economic or diplomatic implications between China and Canada in the future (Gollom 2022).

In the context of the escalating tensions with China over the past four years, this paper utilizes poststructuralist securitization theory to argue that the persistent securitization of China by the United States, coupled with a “with-us-or-against-us” attitude, has significantly influenced Canada’s foreign policy trajectory. Explored in the preceding sections, the ban on Huawei 5G infrastructure in May 2022 serves as a clear example of this shift from diplomatic engagement to confrontational strategies, underscoring the profound impact of the U.S. on Canada’s position as a middle-power in world politics. Notably, Canada’s In-

do-Pacific Strategy aligns with this cautious approach dictated by U.S. influence, as reflected in its anticipation of repercussions on Chinese foreign policy and subsequent alignment with its U.S. ally. This strategic alignment emphasizes the complexity of Canada’s role as a middle-power, requiring a balance between asserting influence and recognizing inherent constraints due to its position. The intricacies of Canada’s Indo-Pacific Strategy highlights the country’s commitment to collaborative diplomacy amid shifting geopolitical landscapes, accentuating the nuanced challenges embedded in navigating the intricate web of world politics.

Conclusion

This paper has provided a deeper understanding of the breadth of U.S. influence on Canada’s shifting foreign policy and relations with China. It positioned the U.S. as a securitizing actor, constructing its Chinese competitor as a threat to national security and revealing the poststructuralist nature of the China threat rhetoric. Moving beyond the traditional focus on whether China poses a genuine threat to U.S. national security, this paper employed a poststructuralist securitization approach to understand the extent of U.S. influence on Canada’s foreign policy trajectory with China.

The first section identified the China threat discourse as a product of securitization. While threats have shifted from containing cultural and social threats to the inclusion of political threats, the aim of the securitizing actor has remained the same: to socially construct China as a threat (Lim 2020). The first section also identified three modes of discursive securitization used in the process of “othering” China, which include the scientific theory, normative analogy, and political myth (Song 2015). Depending on the intention of the securitizing actor, the pursuit of securitization using one or more of these modes constitutes a political, rather than an analytical, decision (Erikkson 1999). After identifying the U.S.’ construction of a dominant Western perception of China, the following section considered U.S. modes of securitization of the China threat. This was accomplished by considering three distinct examples: Titan Rain, CNOOC, and Huawei. The securitization of Huawei as a threat to national security by the U.S. aligned with macrosecu-

ritization, influencing both domestic opinions of China and international foreign policies respectively. The U.S.’ international influence was depicted in the third section, analyzing Canada’s shift from engagement to confrontation with China since 2015. Breaking away from its traditional quiet diplomacy, Canada began condemning China’s human rights abuses, adherence to international trade laws via the arrest of Meng Wanzhou, and acts of potential espionage activity by choosing to ban Huawei. While the shift in Sino-Canadian relations is considered to be at its lowest point in recent years, Trudeau can be positioned as firmly standing up to China in recent efforts to protect Canadian citizens and the future success of the West (Lim 2020).

While it is difficult to fully predict how these recent actions will shape future Sino-Canadian relations, the final section analyzes Canadian intentions through its Indo-Pacific Strategy. Constrained as a middle-power in world politics, Canada recognizes the necessity of fostering strong Sino-Canadian relations in the future due to China’s rising economic power (Brewster 2022). This mirrors the American Indo-Pacific Strategy, demonstrating the strength of U.S. influence on Canada’s foreign policy with China. This paper is not meant to assume that U.S. international influence is the only explanation for shifting Sino-Canadian relations but rather suggests that the combination of U.S. securitization of the China threat alongside its “with-us-or-against-us” attitude constitutes significant reasoning for Canada’s decision to ban Huawei 5G infrastructure, and more generally Canada’s shifting foreign policy trajectory with China since 2015.

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About the Author

Kelly Buell (she/her) is a fifth year Political Studies Major and Global Development Minor.

Her research interests are: International Relations, Security Studies, and International Law

Involuntary Pregnancy Ought to be Considered Forced Labour: A Critical Analysis of Dobbs v.

Jackson and U.S. Labour Laws

Lauren Kidd

Introduction

Dobbs, state Health Officer of the Mississippi Department of Health, et al. v. Jackson Women’s Health Organization et al. marked the overturning of Roe and Casey, ending the constitutional protection of the right to an abortion across the United States of America. Dobbs v. Jackson decided “the authority to regulate abortion is returned to the people and their elected representatives” (Dobbs v. Jackson 2022, 1). While anti-choice movements and the Supreme Court argue abortion banning laws are done to protect the fetus’ life and govern justice for the child, this does not change the nature of a forced pregnancy being non-consensual labour. If pregnancy was legally recognized as labour and thus protected by the U.S. Department of Justice, the overturning of Roe v. Wade would have been illegal.

This paper will first examine legal conceptualizations of both reproductive labour and forced labour. Following this, it will discuss why gestational labour is not currently legally protected or recognized as labour but ought to be. Furthermore, it will argue that recognizing pregnancy as labour under U.S. law could enable the invocation of 18 U.S.C. § 1584 to identify non-consensual pregnancy, particularly resulting from non-consensual conception (e.g. rape), as involuntary servitude. This paper will then argue that it should be illegal to deny individuals the right to an abortion by asserting that a pregnancy, which the gestational parent wished to have aborted, should be considered involuntary servitude under 18 U.S.C. § 1584. By arguing pregnancy should be legally recognized as labour and, thus, a forced pregnancy constitutes forced servitude, this paper will assert that individuals should have the legal right to an abortion as the means to end involuntary servitude.

Reproductive Labour

Definitions of labour are commonly divided into two distinct categories of productive labour and reproductive labour. Productive labour “results in goods or services that have monetary value, for which producers receive a wage” (Armstrong 2022, 171).

Reproductive labour refers to unpaid labour done in the private or domestic sphere which includes and is not limited to childbearing, cooking, and cleaning. The term and referral to gestational labour throughout this paper will only refer to the physical labour done in the womb by the gestational parent to create a child. Throughout this paper, the term reproductive labour will be used to reference all other forms of reproductive labour such as cooking or cleaning.

Feminist scholars, such as Margaret Benston, have long recognized that reproductive labour is work and necessary for productive labour to occur (Balka 1991). Although it is not unusual to find literature that discusses recognizing reproductive labour as labour and contributing to the capitalist workforce, such literature regarding gestational labour and the necessity of labour consent is less popular in comparison. Similarly, the overturning of Roe v. Wade does not account for the possibility that the inability to get an abortion will result in forced labour; this is the gap this paper will attempt to address. Throughout the entire Dobbs v. Jackson ruling, neither reproductive labour, gestational labour, nor gestational work are mentioned. The references to a gestational parent’s consent to pregnancy first includes the dismissal of assumed consent if the gestational parent has not terminated the pregnancy before the child could live outside the womb. Secondly, it is assumed a gestational parent has consented to being pregnant “after fifteen weeks, well beyond the point at which nearly all women are aware that they are pregnant” (Dobbs v. Jackson 2022, 138). The only referral to rape is by Justices Stephen G. Breyer, Sonia

Sotomayor, and Elena Kagan in their dissent.

Legal Understandings of Labour

There is no concrete definition of labour in U.S. law. Instead, U.S. Labour law only specifies what labour can be regulated and is under the jurisdiction of the Department of Labour. Such regulation has been shaped by capitalist definitions of productive labour, specifically labour that can be enforced by an outside agent, requiring a level of consent from the labourer. The U.S. Justice System and Department of Labour do not enforce reproductive labour standards and consequentially the overturning of Roe v. Wade does not account for the consequences of labour involved in pregnancy.

Capitalist understandings of labour define the boundaries of the U.S. Department of Labour, which is responsible to protect employee rights, labour relationships, and ensure officials adhere to the highest standards of responsibility and ethical conduct in labour organizations and labour management relations (U.S. Department of Labour). Gestational labour standards are not enforced by the U.S. Department of Labour because pregnant individuals are not an employee with an employer (U.S. Department of Labour). Pregnancy does not systematically or transactionally produce capital for an employer or a removed individual. While the physical acts of some reproductive labour can be valued, it must be considered employment and directly involved in the capitalist system of accumulation, monetary exchange, and goods production to be valued and be under the jurisdiction of state organizations (U.S. Department of Labour).

Defining the Boundaries of Recognizing Reproductive Labour

It is not the essential physical acts of the labour which dictate whether it is recognized as work but rather the level of consent and enforceability involved. It is assumed that labour is capable of being exploited and enforced if it is being controlled by an employer. Without an employer it is assumed to be self-governing consensual actions or volunteer work. This section will argue that it is the level of consent involved by the worker which defines something as recognized

labour that is capable of being exploited, not the actual physical act(s) of labour. This is exemplified though the social recognition of paid reproductive labour.

Any productive process committed by a human can be considered labour regardless of the type of work, if it produces capital, or is done for an employer. Society and law already recognize reproductive labour as value producing labour. For example, it is widely considered valued labour to run a nursery, day care, baby sit, be a personal chef, or a cleaner. These practices are all reproductive labour that a parent will do as unpaid labour when raising a child. The physical acts of labour done by a parent or guardian is not often physically different than that of hired help. Furthermore, the recognition of volunteer work as unpaid labour proves it is not the necessity of monetary exchange for something to be recognized as labour but consent to work for another. One can perform reproductive labour for another individual without being paid as a form of volunteer work. Since volunteer work is considered consensual labour, the labour board does not have or need jurisdiction as one is governing themselves (U.S. Department of Labour). The jurisdiction involved in volunteer work is similar to reproductive labour done by a gestational parent for their own child. Reproductive labour is assumed to be consensual and self- governed thus it is assumed unnecessary for the Department of Labour to protect and enforce reproductive labour standards. Moreover, the Department does not need to enforce how you treat yourself but how one can treat others. One cannot exploit oneself.

The legal regulation and recognition of surrogacy as a form of work is an example of the legal recognition of gestational labour as a regulated form of labour. Surrogacy is not a transaction of a product or organ tissue. Instead, it is often recognized as work and as “labour power, a commodity that is often offered in exchange for a wage” (Armstrong 2022, 173). The immense labour power needed for surrogacy and the toll it takes on the worker is recognized nationally. For example, Louisiana State Law requires surrogates to prove emotional stability to endure their work. Louisiana HOUSE BILL NO. 1102 states that the gestational parent needs to “certify that prior to executing the gestational carrier contract she has

undergone at least two counseling sessions, separated by at least thirty days, with a licensed clinical social worker, licensed psychologist, medical psychologist, licensed psychiatrist, or licensed counselor, to discuss the proposed gestational carrier” (Bishop et al. 2016, 5).

Louisiana State Law regarding surrogacy contracts understands how the gestational parent ought to be in full control over the medical decisions of their body. Specifically, Louisiana State Law declares “that the gestational carrier has sole authority with respect to medical decision-making during the term of the pregnancy consistent with the rights of a pregnant woman carrying her own biological child” (Bishop et al. 2016, 5). Moreover, the existence of state regulation regarding surrogacy laws and social recognition of paid surrogacy proves gestational labour can be compensated and recognized as labour if it involves an employer. What differentiates unpaid reproductive labour, paid reproductive labour, and volunteer work from forced gestational labour is the element of consent. Once it is illustrated that pregnancy can be labour, then non-consensual pregnancy is forced labour.

The overwhelming theme throughout the Department of Labour’s language and conceptualizations of enforceable labour is the level of consent between two parties. While this is not stated by the Department of Labour, the language used creates the notion that labour can only be regulated if it is being enforced by an outside party. This holds as one cannot exploit or force oneself to do something against one’s will. Thus, without the involvement of another actor, all action and labour are considered self-regulating and thus consensual. In terms of pregnancy, the impregnator is not directly involved in enforcing the gestational labour done by the gestational parent and thus not considered an employer. Yet, the gestational parent also lacks a certain level of consent in gestational labour as one cannot necessarily decide to stop being pregnant. One can only stop gestational labour with the involvement of another individual to perform an abortion. Furthermore, one can only attempt to consent to this process during conception. If an individual is non-consensually impregnated, and therefore cannot consent to the process of enduring this labour, this is a completely non-consensual process and forced condition. The

U.S. Supreme Court and Department of Labour ought to recognize pregnancy as a form of untraditional labour due to its enforceability against one’s will.

Legal Definition of Forced Labour

To prove that forced pregnancy ought to be recognized as forced labour, this paper will illustrate how it can be considered involuntary servitude according to the U.S. Department of State Office to Monitor and Combat Trafficking in Persons (TIP Office). The TIP Office uses language from U.S. Department of Justice Chapter 77 of Title 18, known as Chapter 77 offenses to describe modern slavery as “involuntary servitude/slavery or forced labor” (The United States Department of Justice). Involuntary servitude is prohibited under Section 1584 of Title 18, which prohibits holding “a person in a condition of slavery,” which is compulsory service or labour against their will by means of “actual force, threats of force, or threats of legal coercion” (United States Department of State). The U.S. Department of Justice states that an individual in violation of Section 1584 of Title 18 can be fined or imprisoned for up to 20 years maximum, or both. If death, kidnapping, aggravated sexual abuse, attempt to commit aggravated sexual abuse, or attempt to kill results from a violation of Section 1584 of Title 18, the accused can be fined or imprisoned for any term or life, or both (United States Department of State).

Supplementary regulations and descriptions of forced labour illustrate the correlation between gestational labour and forced servitude. The TIP Office states human trafficking occurs regardless of whether the victim was “born into a state of servitude, were exploited in their hometown, were transported to the exploitative situation, [or] previously consented to work for a trafficker” (United States Department of State). The TIP also recognizes involuntary domestic servitude as a form of human trafficking which can occur in the private residence where a domestic worker is not free to leave their employment and is often unpaid. Domestic workers often do not receive benefits and protection––which other groups of workers enjoy––and are often met with abuse, harassment, and sexual and gender-based violence.

This section will explain how the characteristics of involuntary servitude categorize forced pregnancy as forced labour. To deem gestational labour as involuntary servitude it must first be proved that the labour is against one’s will, and then prove there are means of force. The first characteristic is the necessity of consent or the labour against one’s will, causing an individual to be held in a state of involuntary servitude. The most obvious and compelling case for this argument is the case of rape induced pregnancy, which is devoid of any and all consent. In the case of rape, the gestational parent did not consent to the condition of being in labour. Additionally, the gestational parent is forced into such condition by means of “actual force,[or] threats of force” (The United States Department of Justice). The TIP states that an individual can still be trafficked and thus held in a condition of servitude regardless of if they “previously consented to work for a trafficker” (The United States Department of Justice). Therefore, even in a case of consensual impregnation, if the gestational parent decides they no longer want to be pregnant and cannot receive an abortion then it is still considered to be a state of involuntary labour.

The condition of “involuntary servitude/slavery or forced labor” as defined in 18 U.S.C. § 1584 implies an external factor or employer who is holding the individual in this position, hence legal punishment for the crime. The rapist ought to be considered this individual as they are the actor which causes an individual to be trapped in “a condition of compulsory service or labor against his/her will” (The U.S. Department of Justice). Secondly, the state is therefore also responsible for this condition of involuntary labour as they are holding the individual in a state of compulsory labour against their will, if the will of the gestational parent is to get an abortion. The most compelling argument which proves these laws apply to domestic labour is the TIP’s inclusion of involuntary domestic servitude as “a form of human trafficking,” which is when the domestic worker is not free to leave their employment (United States Department of State). In terms of forced labour of a gestational parent, they are not physically restricted to the place of employment or

work, although without access to an abortion the gestational parent is not free to end or leave their position and condition of labour. Furthermore, a gestational parent is never given any form of direct income by a person as they are not technically employed, although this is a part of a larger debate and critique on the nature of capitalist recognition of labour.

To recognize these positions of labour, as defined under Section 1584, “requires that the victim be held against his/her will by actual force, threats of force, or threats of legal coercion” (The U.S. Department of Justice). A position of involuntary pregnancy entails these restrictions by means of state force and restraint. A gestational parent without legal access to an abortion is held against their will in that position by means of actual force as there is no physical way to end their position, physically forcing them to remain in that position. A gestational parent is threatened with force through the physical force of imprisonment if they choose to end their position of labour and, thus, get an abortion. For example, in Texas anyone who performs a successful abortion is guilty of a first-degree felony which is punishable by five to 99 years in prison or $10,000 (Messerly and Ollstein 2022). Although arguing against state punishment being unjust, illegal, or the enforcer of a condition may seem unorthodox, it is nonetheless true. Furthermore, this is not the first case of unjust laws creating unjust or immoral conditions for its citizens, nor will it be the last time feminist scholarship and its citizens fight against marginalization and systemic oppression.

Effects of Forced Pregnancy

While this does not affect the legality or jurisdiction of the argued laws, the danger and effects of non-consensual pregnancy should not be overlooked. According to Rape, Abuse & Incest National Network (RAINN), 94% of women who are raped experience Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) within two weeks following their assault. Moreover, 30% of women report symptoms of PTSD within nine months following the rape, 33% of female rape victims contemplate suicide, and 13% of female rape victims attempt suicide (RAINN). In 2020, there were 23.8 deaths per 100,000 live births, with the mortality rate being 2.9 times higher for non-Hispanic Black women

(RAINN). These statistics are not all encompassing of the harmful effects of pregnancy and forced pregnancy, but they offer a moment to understand some of what is at stake.

Ethical Questions

The ethical questions that surface regarding forced pregnancy ought to be critically examined. While the overturning of Roe v. Wade allows for the protection of “innocent human life, created in the image of God,” it appears this law is not enforced to protect all lives (General Assembly Kentucky 2023, 1). If forced pregnancy can result in health complications, natural death, and suicide should the state have the right to force these conditions on one individual for the sake of another? While Dobbs v. Jackson contends it is the state’s duty to protect the life and liberty of all individuals including unborn children, in doing so they relinquish the right to liberty of the gestational parent. While all deserve protection to life and liberty, it is not right to intentionally strip an existing individual of such rights, put them in danger, and threaten their life for another.

It ought not be the right of a governing body to declare one life more valuable and worthy of protection than another life. Furthermore, if the federal law still allows capital punishment to be dictated by certain states, then it appears the government does not believe it is their duty to protect all lives. Logic contends the life of a prisoner on death row is essentially a life and alive as much as that of a child. In turn, if the state does not protect all citizen’s lives, as U.S. citizens can be punished by death, it appears the state does not protect life for its innate value nor believe all lives should truly be preserved. If U.S. law protected the innate right to life, as it claims in protecting the unborn, then the state would also prohibit the death penalty.

Furthermore, many states have declared actions causing a miscarriage and thus “causing the death of the unborn child” is murder (United States Department of State). Murder in certain states can be punishable with the death penalty. Should the government operate on an eye-for-an-eye basis? Should those found guilty of receiving an illegal abortion be pun-

ished by death? A governing body which fundamentally lacks intrinsic morals ought not determine the value of one life over another.

Conclusion

The argument that forced pregnancy ought to be considered forced labour will likely receive objections regarding the level of consent involved in pregnancy. Specifically, counter arguments will likely object to the lack of employer or direct enforcer of gestational labour. Moreover, the lack of an individual actor who can be deemed responsible for another’s state of forced pregnancy discredits the argument that forced pregnancy is forced labour. This is likely the most significant reason why it is not recognized as forced labour under the Department of State or Department of Justice. In the case of rape induced conception, the rapist and state are responsible for creating a condition of forced labour and ought to be recognized as administering the means of forced labour conditions.

The jurisdiction of the Department of Labour and boundaries of forced labour ought to be amended to include involuntary forced labour even if there is no employer. 18 U.S.C. § 1584 should be amended to specifically recognize forced pregnancy as labour without consent where the person is held against their will to continue such labour. Regardless of possible amendments, 18 U.S.C. § 1584 ought to be invoked in cases of forced pregnancy to allow the gestational parent an abortion and a means of escaping forced labour. U.S. citizens deserve equal protection under the law from the moment of their conception to the time they become pregnant. It is ethically wrong and illegal to hold any individual in a condition of forced servitude, whether they are pregnant or not.

References

Armstrong, Sylvie. 2022. “Labour Is Labour: What Surrogates Can Learn from the Sex Work Is Work Movement.” Journal of Law and Society 49, no. 1: 170–192. doi:10.1111/jols.12350.

Balka, Ellen. 1991. “Margaret Lowe Benston: 19371991.” Labour / Le Travail 28, 11–13. http://www.

jstor.org/stable/25143505.

General Assembly of Kentucky. 23 RS BR 992, 507 ed., KRS 508.090. Kentucky Legislature, 2023, pp. 1–7.

“Involuntary Servitude, Forced Labor, and Sex Trafficking Statutes Enforced.” The United States Department of Justice, 2015. www.justice.gov/crt/ involuntary- servitude-forced-labor-and-sex-trafficking-statutes-enforced.

Louisiana State, Bishop, et al. HOUSE BILL NO. 1102, ACT No. 494 ed., Louisiana State Government, 2016, pp. 1–17. 2016 Regular Session.

Messerly, Megan, and Alice Miranda Ollstein. 2022. “Abortion Bans and Penalties Would Vary Widely by State.” POLITICO. www.politico.com/ news/2022/05/06/ potential-abortion-bans-and-penalties-by-state-00030572.

The United States Court of Appeals for the Fifth Circuit. Dobbs, State Health Officer of the Mississippi Department of Health, et al. v. Jackson Women’s Health Organization. No. 19–1392, 24 June 2022.

“Definitions.” U.S Department of Labour, November 2, 2022. https://www.dol.gov/ agencies/olms/compliance-assistance/interprative-manual/030- definitions#:~:text=%22INDUSTRY%20AFFECTING%20 COMMERCE%22%20me ans%20any,1947%2C%20 as%20amended%2C%20or%20the.

“Victims of Sexual Violence: Statistics.” RAINN, www.rainn.org/statistics/victims- sexual-violence. “What Is Modern Slavery? - United States Department of State.” U.S. Department of State, 2020. www.state. gov/what-is-modern-slavery/.

About the Author

Lauren Kidd (she/her) is a fifth year Political Studies Major and Philosophy Minor.

Her research interests are: Feminist political philosophy.

Limited Seats in the Lifeboat: Distributive Justice and Associational Duties as Triaging Principles in Forced Migrant Admissions

Margaret Cavanagh-Wall

Introduction

Currently, there are approximately 31.5 million refugees and asylum seekers worldwide (United Nations High Commission on Refugees 2022), a figure which has doubled over the last decade due to political tyranny in Venezuela, Eritrea, and South Sudan, wars in Syria, Ukraine, and DR Congo, and ethnic cleansing campaigns in Myanmar, Afghanistan, and China (United Nations High Commission on Refugees 2023). The growing volume of forced migrants has been met with heightened nationalist and protectionist attitudes, with countries that have previously welcomed refugees now choosing to scale back admissions. In 2022, 940,840 asylum claims were filed worldwide, yet only 21% of claimants were granted asylum (United Nations High Commission on Refugees 2022). The same year, the United Nations High Commission on Refugees (UNHCR) identified roughly 20 million displaced peoples as “in need of foreign resettlement, but less than 1% actually received it” (2022). States have also ramped up efforts to deter prospective asylum claimants (Bishop 2020, 2096), including aggressive anti-immigrant social media campaigns, deporting claimants to a third-party country for indefinite detention

(McDonnell 2021), and family separation policies, under which asylum seekers’ children are seized and detained separately or adopted out (McDonnell and Merton 2018).

States have defended these policies by arguing that the powers to enforce their borders and determine who is admitted to their political community are constituent to their sovereignty, and that without these powers, the modern state structure would collapse. Many theorists who endorse the conventional view of border sovereignty already concede that refugees and asylum seekers have a special moral claim to admission; however, they maintain that the sovereignty principle gives states broad discretion in how they meet their obligations to refugees. In this paper, I challenge that a liberal understanding of distributive justice not only establishes a duty for states to admit refugees and asylum seekers, but also constrains the criteria that states are morally justified in using to decide which claimants they will accept.

I begin by situating the issue of refugee admissions within the wider conventional paradigm debate over the extent of states’ rights to control immigration and impose selection and exclusion criteria on prospective immigrants. Here, I argue that while the principles of the Westphalian system give states broad discretion over admissions, the legitimacy of those powers is dependent upon states fulfilling a responsibility of reparation to people arbitrarily and critically harmed by the Westphalian system’s random allocation of citizenships at birth. In the case of forced international migrants (refugees and asylum seekers), reparation necessitates admission to a political community which will secure their basic human interests. In Section two, I consider proposed limitations on states’ duty to admit refugees. Distinguishing between morally important interests and vital interests, I defend states’ right to limit admissions when necessary to

protect members’ vital interests, but argue they are not morally justified in excluding forced migrants for the sake of preserving lesser freedoms and privileges for members. In Section three, I discuss how the distributive justice view constrains the criteria that states are justified in applying to triage admissions when the volume of forced migrants seeking admission exceeds the state’s capacity. I ultimately conclude that a liberal understanding of distributive justice precludes triaging based on a state’s non-essential self-interests; however, relationships of moral significance between a forced migrant and the prospective receiving state can create a positive duty to prioritize specific individuals for admission.

Conventional Theory: State Discretion in Immigrant Admissions

Theorists of the conventional paradigm see states as political communities, bounded by relationships of reciprocity, shared interests, and a common identity. In liberal theory, political communities must be self-determining because personal liberty requires that members of these communities be able to pursue and actualize their collective interests. Conventional theorists argue that for a community to be meaningfully self-determining, it must be free to choose who can immigrate into the association. Wellman, for example, likens political communities to clubs (2008, 110). Clubs are voluntary associations of members pursuing a specific purpose. If current members are unable to filter prospective members, new members with different interests might reshape the association and undermine its initial purpose. Beyond ensuring members’ security, theorists vary in their interpretation of what the ‘initial purpose’ of a political community is. Walzer views political communities as vehicles for protecting the distinctive culture of members. He argues that protecting this culture necessitates broad leeway for members to select people they deem culturally compatible, based on their “shared understandings” of what defines their culture (language, ethnicity, political ideology, etc.) (1983, 40).

Liberal nationalists like Miller focus on political communities’ role in facilitating shared identity and social solidarity, which are preconditions for liberal institutions (Miller 2005, 200). From this stand-

point, states are justified in limiting immigration to allow the culture and resource stocks to adapt. Liberal nationalists argue that without this control, the influx of immigrants would overwhelm state infrastructure, diminish quality of life and social solidarity, and collapse the welfare state (Miller 2005, 201). Among conventional theorists, there is a consensus that it is an unjust violation of moral equality to exclude prospective immigrants based on immutable characteristics. However, they argue since the state has no obligation to admit immigrants, if they choose to do s they ought to be able to select immigrants whose presence imposes the least cost on the existing community, and whose skills will help them integrate.

Distributive Justice: The Moral Basis of Sovereignty and Citizenship

The moral status of forced migrants is a point of contention in the conventional paradigm. Some theorists advocate that considerations of distributive justice give refugees a special claim to states’ assistance. Waltzer, for example, describes states as “clubs with family characteristics;” members can feel compelled by humanitarianism to aid suffering strangers (1983, 42). In line with Rawls’ Principle of Mutual Aid, he suggests that aiding refugees by admitting them becomes a duty when a state can do so without facing costs (Waltzer 1983, 33). Miller similarly argues people deprived of their basic rights have a justice-based claim to resettle to a new state, yet this claim is a “theoretical right, dependent on a state’s cooperation which cannot be forced” (2005, 196). In this view, refugees are entitled to admission in a state where their basic needs can be met, but no state has a specific duty to aid.

More extreme statists eschew the idea of a duty to admit refugees, arguing that this wrongfully violates the existing community’s right to self-determination. Ekins argues that a state ought to only concern itself with its members’ interests, and that its members have the ultimate claim on state resources because their labour sustains the state (2019, 41). Therefore, a state cannot have a duty to admit refugees, because this would impose a cost on members by diminishing their share of resources. Wellman builds on this, arguing if states have any duty to aid refugees, they must do so

in a way that does not limit their members’ resource shares or freedom of association; his proposed solution is military intervention in the refugees’ origin states (2008, 129). The common thread among these theorists is that they treat the duty to aid refugees as conditional on whether it can be fulfilled without impacting members.

I argue these views assign excessive moral weight to members’ freedom of association, and this causes them to treat sovereignty over territory as no-strings-attached right of political communities. They fail to recognize that the legitimate exercise of sovereignty requires fulfilling certain responsibilities to non-members. We can conceive of the Westphalian state system as a kind of social contract between political communities designed to ensure distributive justice: each community has the exclusive right to appropriate a given piece of land to provide for their members’ basic needs, and all people are entitled to membership in a community which is responsible for meeting their needs (Carens 2013, 203). The power of territorial sovereignty was designed to fulfill the first of these objectives, and the practice of allocating citizenship at birth was designed to fulfill the second.

In this system, assigning birthright citizenship should not be seen merely as a process of one state “recognizing the person as its own” (Ekins 2019, 41). It also implicitly entails all of the other states recognizing that person as “not mine,” renouncing association between their political communities and the individual, and discharging their share of collective responsibility for that person’s welfare to the one designated state. The moral rationale behind this arrangement is that it will facilitate distributive justice; for the sake of efficiency and fair access to resources, each person is given an entitlement to the protection and resources of one state (Carens 2013, 20). The implication is that states are only morally justified in exercising their sovereignty to reject membership-association with an individual if doing so promotes distributive justice.

Distributive Justice and the Exclusion of Voluntary Migrants

In this view, whether a state can control immi-

gration to promote members’ freedom of association depends on whether this can be done in a manner consistent with distributive justice. I argue that in the case of voluntary migrants, it can. Distributive justice does not require that everyone have identical resources and opportunities, only that everyone has sufficient resources to live an autonomous and dignified life. As Miller writes, “what a person can legitimately demand access to is an adequate range of options to choose between to fulfill their generic human interests––occupation, religion, cultural activities, marriage partners, and so forth” (2005, 196), in addition to the core human rights that membership in a political community is meant to provide: personal security, kinship networks, legal equality, and the ability to participate in political and social life. We set the threshold at “an adequate range” because it would be logistically impossible to offer everyone every opportunity, and because people are not meaningfully harmed by lacking one option if they have a range of other viable ones. Consider a hypothetical: a person requires a car to get to work, and the options available are a Toyota, a Ford, a Honda, or a Nissan. Since any of these options could satisfactorily fulfill the person’s transportation needs, we don’t consider it a problematic limit on their freedom that they don’t have a local Kia dealership. Similarly, people whose fundamental interests and human rights are satisfied in their origin society have a distributionally fair share of opportunities and resources. They may still wish to migrate to pursue opportunities that they prefer elsewhere, but “their desire is not one that imposes any kind of obligation on others to meet it” (Miller 2005, 194). There is no clear reason why their individual preference to be admitted to another state should be given more moral weight than that political community’s freedom of association. Therefore, a state choosing to limit admissions of voluntary migrants is compatible with distributive justice, and a morally permissible use of sovereignty.

Distributive Justice and the Duty to Admit Forced Migrants

Forced migrants, however, are another matter. The practical distinction between forced and voluntary migrants is murky, but for the purposes of this argument, a migrant is ‘forced’ if their origin society cannot or will not ensure any one of the vital human

interests outlined above. As Carens argues, “states are morally obligated to take these sorts of fundamental interests into account in their citizenship policies” (2013, 25). It is not sufficient that forced migrants theoretically have a state designated for meeting their needs; distributive justice demands the substantive fulfillment of these interests. This requires resettlement to a safe state, because the alternatives—sending development aid to the inept/corrupt government of a failed state, or warehousing people in refugee camps––cannot provide these forced migrants a comparatively decent degree of autonomy or quality of life (Souter 2014, 337; Walzer 1983, 48). Whether for the sake of their human rights or their very survival, forced migrants’ vital interest in being admitted to a new political community gives them a moral claim to admission that outweighs members’ lesser claim on freedom of association (Oberman 2016, 35).

Moreover, I suggest states have a duty of restorative justice to admit forced migrants. The citizenship a person is dealt upon birth is a determining factor in the political rights, economic mobility, and social security they will have (Carens 2013, 226); therefore, through the practice of collectively assigning citizenship, all states in the international system are responsible for shaping the person’s quality of life and opportunities. These individuals are forced to migrate because they were allocated to a state which failed to secure their vital human interests; this can be seen as an injustice perpetrated against them by the Westphalian state system, and as Carens argues, the co-creators of an institution have a shared responsibility to correct its failures (2013, 196). Forced migrants represent a failure of the state system to deliver the distributive justice it is premised on. If states refuse to fulfill their responsibilities as authors of this system and close their borders to forced migrants, they forfeit the right to exercise the powers they receive by participating in the system, chief among them their power of territorial sovereignty.

Miller partially addresses this line of argument, acknowledging that forced migrants ought to be admitted to a safe state, but argues that it does not follow that any specific state has a duty to admit them. He states what forced migrants are entitled to is a choice between the states willing to accept them

(Miller 2005, 202). The flaw of this argument is it rests on the assumption that there will be states willing to admit the forced migrants. Let’s entertain Miller’s hypothetical for a moment: imagine a state(s) is eager to accept any and every forced migrant who possesses a legitimate claim to resettlement, and is capable of securing their rights and vital interests. This would be lovely, and wholly compatible with distributive justice. However, Miller’s assumption doesn’t square with the reality of millions of forced migrants in need of resettlement, and the decade-long trend of less than 1% receiving it (United Nations High Commission on Refugees 2023).

Miller is correct that the distributive justice argument doesn’t prescribe a duty for any specific state to assist specific forced migrants, but it does establish that all states capable of supporting some forced migrants ought to be willing to admit. To understand why distributive justice requires this, let’s consider what happens when states capable of admitting forced migrants refuse to do so:

“When a million asylum seekers arrived in the European Union in 2015, there was a backlash. Countries built walls, refused to accept refugees, […] leaving them in a state of protracted legal and social limbo. The authorities refuse to regularize them or to grant them any kind of legal status. These desperate persons live in substandard conditions, completely excluded from society, lacking the means to meet basic needs such as shelter, food, health, or education. They are deprived of any opportunity to live in dignity” (Kakissis 2018; Muižnieks 2016).

Not only do these border closures harm the asylum seekers, but they also force a pile-up of people in the states bordering their origin country. Turkey, Pakistan, and Ethiopia are prominent examples of border states overwhelmed by forced migrants who had planned temporary stays, only to find the doors to their ultimate destination slammed in their faces. Consequently, these states face overcrowding, strained infrastructure, and bureaucratic overwhelm as they bear the brunt of refugee crises. In this way, other states’ failure to accept a share of forced migrants can be seen as an act of distributive injustice to these border states

(Ogurlu 2019). The Westphalian system is “premised on the equal rights and obligations of all states,” (Carens 2013, 227) and forcing border states to bear the financial and social toll of an influx of vulnerable people represents a shirking of obligations by the rest of the system. As Carens argues, “it is never enough to justify a set of social arrangements governing human beings by say that these arrangements are good for us, without regards for others, whoever the “us” may be––we must appeal to arguments that explain why the social arrangements are reasonable and fair to everyone who is subject to them” (Carens 2013, 227). Therefore, while there may not always be a logistical need for all states to accept forced migrants, all states capable of supporting forced migrants must be at least willing to admit a proportionate share of them.

The Weight of Self-Determination: Limits on Duties of Distributive Justice?

At what point has a state done their fair share of the work? How much can residents of safe states be asked to sacrifice to ensure this distributive justice? The consensus among theorists in the conventional paradigm seems to be “not much.” Most endorse a watered-down version of Rawls’ Mutual Aid Principle, where “positive assistance is required if it is urgently needed, and the costs of providing it are low” (Walzer 1983, 33), while simultaneously arguing if the volume or characteristics of admitted refugees drives a reshaping of the community’s identity to accommodate more religious, cultural, linguistic, or ethnic pluralism, this constitutes a “high cost.” This view is problematic because it assigns greater moral weight to members’ non-vital interests than to forced migrants’ critical interests, suggesting members of safe states cannot be asked to adapt their lives in any meaningful way to spare outsiders from inhumane suffering. Not only is this inconsistent with the principle of moral equality, but it also reflects the privileged, borderline entitled, position of theorists who are confident in the security and stability of their rights in the state they reside in, and anticipate that they will always be aid-givers, never aid-seekers (Eisenberg 2020, 312).

But for duties to have moral substance, we must define them by principles that take everyone’s interests into account (Carens 2013, 227). In the spirit

of Rawls’ ‘considered convictions of justice’ approach (Carens 2013, 194; Rawls 1971, 19), I suggest that what is required here is a reframing of the question from “How much can we help without facing any significant cost?” to “How much would we hope they would help us, if our situations were reversed?” From this perspective, “the question is what weight self-determination should have when it conflicts with vital interests […] and the answer one should adopt is that it is wrong to require forced migrants to sacrifice their basic needs so that others can enjoy benefits that are not morally urgent” (Stilz 2013, 219). This suggests that the duty to admit refugees to protect their vital interests extends up to the point where further admissions would jeopardize the same vital interests for members (Singer 1972, 231): access to sufficient life-sustaining resources and state institutions that protect rights and public order (Song 2018, 390; Carens 2013, 276-77). This is not to say that members’ culture and freedom of association are not morally significant goods. They are simply not morally significant enough to warrant protection at the cost of condemning millions of migrants to ‘perpetual insecurity’ and an existence without the rights and freedoms essential to human dignity and wellbeing (Gibney 2019, 133; Walzer 1982, 147).

Liberal nationalists might object that limiting the volume of forced migrants or selecting ones who are culturally similar to the domestic population is necessary to maintain the social solidarity required for (welfare) state institutions to function (Miller 2005, 201). Miller, for example, suggests “racial, ethnic, linguistic, religious, and cultural diversity generated by immigration may reduce social trust [and] support for social welfare programs and the deliberative institutions of democracy” (Miller,2016, 26). This objection is unconvincing. Firstly, this concern is only valid if empirical evidence supports this trend, and other scholars have cast doubt on this (Song 2018, 392-93). It seems more plausible that any purported decrease in social solidarity is caused by nationalist political rhetoric which scapegoats refugees as threats to members’ security and economic opportunities, rather than by the mere fact of diversity amongst refugees (Philo et al. 2013, 5). Second, social solidarity stems from shared values. It has been contested that migrants from certain societies and cultural backgrounds will

not share liberal democratic values…but then, why would they seek admission to a liberal democracy? Third, the feared ‘decrease in solidarity’ would only occur if members choose to socially reject the admitted refugees. But why should we reward xenophobia by allowing states to use its adverse impact on their own institutions as an exemption from their duty to aid forced migrants? This would create a perverse incentive that is antithetical to the core liberal values of pluralism and tolerance.

Limited Seats in the Lifeboat: Triaging Forced Migrant Admissions by Relative Associational Duties

Having argued that states cannot exclude forced migrants unless necessary to protect the vital interests of members, I now consider the practical implications of this duty. “What ought states do when the volume of forced migrants seeking admission exceeds their capacity?” is a pressing normative question, particularly for states like Poland, Uganda, Turkey, and Pakistan, who border some of the largest refugee-producing states of the decade. When a state is only able to help a fraction of those in need, some kind of triaging principle is needed. If we accept the previous section’s arguments, states cannot determine who to aid based on their members’ associational preferences regarding immutable and morally arbitrary traits (language, religion, race, culture). However, I argue that relationships of moral significance between a forced migrant and prospective receiving state can create a positive duty to prioritize that refugee for admission. A “relationship of significance” can take two forms: 1) a situation in which a denial of admission to that particular state would harm a vital interest for the migrant; or 2) a situation in which the state has some direct responsibility for the person’s status as a forced migrant.

Family Ties

As Walzer observes, states are like families in the sense that they recognize a middle ground between members and strangers: people whose interests are tied to the political community despite not being ‘members’ (Walzer 1983, 42). These interest linkages mean these individuals are meaningfully impacted by

the state’s coercive authority, and therefore the state has ‘associational duties’ to them “of the same sort that they have towards [members]” (Gibney 2019, 147; Walzer 1983, 49). Immediate family of the state’s members fall into this category; they are intimately tied to the state by virtue of their relationships with people in it. People have vital emotional, physical, and financial interests in being able to live with their family (Carens 2013, 188); therefore, refugees with immediate family connections to a state ought to be prioritized for admission. In failing to reunite families, a state inflicts profound harm on both the foreigners and its own members. I suggest that this harm is greater if in failing to reunite members’ families, the state leaves those relatives to suffer as stateless people.

Internal Claimants

Those who file legitimate asylum claims from within a state or at its border have similar crucial interests that connect them to the political community. As international law recognizes, when states presume to exercise sovereignty over everyone within their territory, they also accept the companion duty of upholding those individuals’ rights. By virtue of their presence, states have a basic duty to provide security to asylum seekers; to force them on another state would violate that state’s sovereignty, and to send them back to their place of persecution would be inhumane. If rejected, asylum seekers may well lack the resources to try elsewhere. Moreover, if the state is a signatory to a “Safe Third Country” treaty, its choice to reject the claimant may render them ineligible to apply in multiple other states (Axworthy and Rock 2022). As Carens argues, states have an obligation to factor these consequences into their decisions (2013, 219). Among prospective refugee admissions, the uniquely direct power of life and death the state wields over internal asylum claimants creates a higher associational duty of aid.

State Complicity

Earlier, I discussed how we can conceptualize forced migrants as victims of injustice perpetrated by the collective state system. Yet sometimes, we can draw a clearer line of culpability. When one state interferes in another’s affairs and causes damage that results in a refugee crisis, this creates a moral duty

to repair that harm by reinstating security to refugees, “for whose lack of state protection they are responsible” (Souter 2014, 326). This interference can take a variety of forms: military intervention, crippling sanctions, backing destabilizing regime change, or environmental damage that renders land uninhabitable (Souter 2014, 326). These types of direct harm elevate the general reparative duty for injustice to an associational duty (Gibney 2019, 147). Consider, for example, the case of post-war Vietnamese refugees: the harm that the United States caused them “created an affinity between America and Vietnam” which meant that “in a moral sense, [Vietnamese refugees] had been effectively Americanized” (Walzer 1983, 49), making it incumbent upon America to aid them as if they were Americans. Of course, the refugee must also be willing to resettle to the perpetrating state (Bradley 2005, 21)––Russia is indisputably responsible for the Ukrainian refugee crisis, yet no one could make the case that desperate Ukrainian refugees ought to be resettled there.

‘State complicity’ also applies to situations when individuals are persecuted because of their association with a particular foreign state. For example, when an ethnic group is persecuted in retaliation for the associated state’s actions, such as Aussiedler ethnic Germans in Eastern Europe post-WWII (Prausser and Rees 2004, 5). Or, when Afghan translators and guides for NATO forces are branded traitors and hunted by the Taliban after NATO’s withdrawal from Afghanistan (Human Rights Watch 2021). In these cases, persecution is a result of the individual’s affiliation with a particular state (or group of states), therefore, that state has a specific obligation to aid them.

Even amongst stalwart defenders of a state’s right to regulate immigration, most theorists acknowledge that refugees have a special moral claim to states’ aid. In this paper, I have argued that states’ aid for forced migrants is not an act of generosity or a vague humanitarian responsibility, but a binding duty entailed in the conception of distributive justice on which the international order is premised. In the Westphalian state system, citizenship/membership and sovereignty are designed as mechanisms to facilitate distributive justice. Therefore, the duty to correct for failures of distributive justice caused by the allocation

of membership is normatively prior to and supersedes states’ duties to protect less vital freedoms and privileges for their members. Forced migrants are people who, due to the citizenship the state system allocated them, have been victims of a distributive injustice in the form of a denial of security, vital rights, and resources. As co-authors of the institution that perpetrated this injustice, other states have a restorative justice duty to rectify it.

Conclusion

I have challenged the view that states should be given broad leeway in how they aid forced migrants, arguing that neither military intervention, development aid, nor funding for faraway refugee camps can guarantee true reparation of the injustice inflicted on refugees and asylum seekers. The only way forced migrants can be guaranteed their due security, rights, and resources is through admission to a safe state. Moreover, distributive justice among states requires all states to be willing to admit a share of refugees that is proportionate to the capacity of their resource stocks and institutional infrastructure. Just as we cannot justify some humans living in insecurity and deprivation because of where they happened to be born, we cannot justify forcing bordering states to bear the brunt of mass forced migration simply because of their proximity to the crisis.

In the final section, I have considered how the limits of an individual state’s capacity might require them to selectively admit forced migrants and explored how considerations of distributive and restorative justice ought to shape states’ triaging principles. I have argued that, while refugees are morally entitled to aid, in cases where a relationship of significance exists between a refugee and a state, the state has a higher ‘associational duty’ to admit that refugee than other claimants. In practice, if the principles that I have argued for were applied globally, we would see a more equitable distribution of forced migrant resettlement across wealthy versus impoverished and across Global North versus Global South states. More importantly, we would also see an end to asylum seekers and refugees being warehoused in filthy overcrowded camps, left in limbo indefinitely, denied the abilities to form relationships, participate in community, and

make choices about their lives and futures that give human existence meaning.

References

Axworthy, Lloyd, and Allan Rock. “The Safe Third Country Agreement Is Unsafe - and - Uconstitutional.” World Refugee and Migration Council, 222. https:// wrmcouncil.org/news/opinion/the-safe-third-country-agreement-is-unsafe-and-unconstitutional/.

BBC News. “How Many People Cross the Channel in Small Boats and Where Do They Come From?” (2023). https://www.bbc.com/news/uk-53699511.

Bishop, Sarah. “An International Analysis of Governmental Media Campaigns to Deter Asylum Seekers.”

International Journal of Communication 14 (2020): 1092–1114

Bradley, M. “The Conditions of Just Return,” Refugee Studies Centre Working Paper No. 21 (2005) [online]. Available from:http://www.rsc.ox.ac.uk/publications/ working-papers-folder_contents/RSCwor kingpaper21.pdf/view.

Carens, Joseph H. “The Ethics of Immigration.” New York: Oxford University Press, 2013.

Ekins, Richard. “The State’s Right to Exclude Asylum-Seekers and (Some) Refugees.” The Political Philosophy of Refuge (2019), 39–58.

Eisenberg, Avigail. “The Rights of National Majorities: Toxic Discourse or Democratic Catharsis?” Ethnicities 20, no. 2 (April 2020): 312–30. https://doi. org/10.1177/1468796819866488.

“Emergencies.” United Nations High Commission on Refugees, 2023. https://www.unhcr.org/emergencies. html.

Faiola, Anthony. “A Global Surge in Refugees Leaves Europe Struggling to Cope.” The Washington Post, (2015). https://www.washingtonpost.com/world/europe/new-migration-crisis-overwhelms-european-refugee-system/2015/04/21/3ab83470-e45c-11e4-ae0f-f8c 46aa8c3a4_story. html.

Gibney, Matthew. “The Duties of Refugees.” In The Political Philosophy of Refuge, edited by David Miller and Christine Straehle, 1st ed. Cambridge University Press (2019). https://doi.org/10.1017/9781108666466.

About the Author

Margaret Cavanagh-Wall (she/her) is a fourth year Political Studies, Philosophy, and Economics Major. Her research interests are: Human Rights Policy, Immigration Politics, and Gender Politics.

Responses to the Masculine State: Examining

Black Feminist Transnational Organizing Throughout the Centuries

Emily Poltorac

Introduction

Within the field of International Relations (IR), the themes of security, masculinity and the state, nationalism, and race all contribute to a web of global power relations. These power structures often leave women with a different relationship to the nation than one may traditionally assume. Based on Joane Nagel’s idea “that for many women the nation does not ‘feel’ the same as it does to many men,” the idea of feminist transnational organizing has been around for decades (Nagel 1998). Transnational organizing broadly refers to networks, movements, and coalitions on an international level (Enloe 2014). The number of women engaged in it shows how women tend to go beyond the boundary of the traditional masculine state. Nagel (1998) poses a pressing question that requires further expansion upon: “As women enter the political realm in greater numbers around the world, will we see a shifting of state agendas and a decoupling of nationalism from masculinity?” This paper analyzes how Angela Davis, Vicki Garvin, Harriet Tubman, Gerty Archimède, and the other women mentioned throughout this paper serve as case studies of how transnational organizing allows for transnational solidarity and inherently changed understandings of concepts like hierarchy and colonialism.

Truly understanding transnational solidarity requires analyzing why it is not always sufficient just to disconnect understandings of nationalism from ideas of masculinity. Historical context helps to comprehend the idea that progress for women has traditionally not always been reached at the same time, whether due to race, gender, or political statehood (Blain 2018; Hill Collins 2002). These problems exist globally, showing how this organizing is necessary and consistently relevant for women of all identities who are inherently distanced from the state. The idea of the nation being feminine-coded, and the state being masculine-coded

reinforces how statehood, nationalism, security, and race all see women as outsiders to the IR equation. The combination of understanding historical context and using an international lens will ultimately prove how transnational organizing for women is, in part, a response to outsider status, despite the critical role that women play in social, political, and economic realms.

Political Context

Defining the nation and the state in the context of masculinity is crucial. The nation refers to the people, including their ideology, beliefs, behaviour, language, and culture (Peterson 1994). The state, on the other hand, refers to governments, laws, and security. Masculinity refers to the characteristics traditionally associated with men (Manchanda and de Haan 2018). Masculine institutions and traits also have more economic, social, cultural, and political power than ‘women’ and their feminine-coded counterparts (Manchanda and de Haan 2018). Women’s transnational organizing refers to causes, movements, compromises, funding, protests, and local and international lobbying in both domestic and private spheres (Enloe 2014). Women’s transnational organizing, while differing in structure and priority, tends to have certain things in common. These similarities can include women-led alliances and local and international strategic campaigns. This organizing tends to touch on security, stability, crisis, and development concerns, which political theorist, Cynthia Enloe, finds are “routinely imagined to be divorced from women’s issues” (2014). Since historical context has demonstrated that IR’s theorizing on nationhood, nationalism, and the state is Eurocentric, it is then easy to see how gender, race, and class hierarchies lead to the nation being constructed as feminine and the state being considered masculine (Manchanda and de Haan 2018). Manchanda and De Haan (2018) point out, similar to how women are seen as vulnerable, “the nation is thus seen in need of protection,

whereas the state is accorded the role of the protector.” This distribution of traditional male and female roles is problematic, as it inherently dismisses women from the institutions that govern them and the laws they are subject to. As a result, women’s organizing does not get the attention or enthusiasm it deserves, even on a transnational level.

Intersectionality

Issues of security tend to intersect with issues of race, gender, and economic concerns for women. However, despite being a vital issue in IR, they are often dismissed as not being primary concerns for women. In Sara Salem’s (2018) On Transnational Feminist Solidarity: The Case of Angela Davis in Egypt, the concept of the “virgin/whore” complex is used as an example of Angela Davis and her refusal against the exotification of Egypt and its realities. Instead, Davis chooses to stand with Egyptian women and their economic struggles. By understanding that the concept of sexual and gender-based violence (SGBV) occurs globally, and as part of her solidarity with Egyptian women, she finds that this virgin/whore complex is a result of racialized dynamics, patriarchy, and colonization. Going one step further, however, Salem explains where this originates from, as “the same dichotomy was central to the colonial project itself: white European women were to be protected from oversexualized African men and to be distinguished from oversexualized African women” (Salem 2018). In showing the aims of the colonial project, Salem, through Davis’s observations, shows how these findings align with a gendered understanding of masculinity and security. If women are unsafe because of SGBV anywhere, then it means that they are unsafe from it everywhere. Salem comes to a similar conclusion, stating, “Davis’s parallels serve to prevent the reader from seeing gender inequality as being especially pronounced in Egypt” (Salem 2018). By identifying and standing in solidarity with Egyptian women and the problems they face daily, such as President Sadat’s open-door economic policy, which created “more unemployment, more poverty, and more homelessness,” Davis discusses more than just the usual liberal feminist concerns regarding the veil or harems (Salem 2018). Instead, Davis shows the need for a deeper, transnational understanding of how the masculine state fails women, and

her time in Egypt does not stop with just discussing common topics, such as Egyptian women’s clothing. Through Salem’s findings, it is clear both American women and Egyptian women are victims of gendered understandings, though one also faces colonial and racialized degradation. Ultimately, both are outsiders to power hierarchies in IR, and Salem further emphasizes the role of class in different societies.

To fully comprehend the relationship between women, the nation, and the state requires understanding intersectionality and how it can create solidarity when conditions are brutal regarding political and economic realities. Manchanda and de Haan (2018) state that intersectionality “is a perspective that stresses the need to look at the ways in which systems of oppression interact on the basis of race, gender, sexuality, age, and disability.” The construction of the state, including economic laws, is often reflective of masculine ideals but perpetuates the exclusion of women’s problems as being outside of the necessities of IR. Ideas of nationalism often exclude women, yet women are inherently part of the nation, whether in their liberation, exclusivity, or the domination imposed on them (Peterson 1994). Both the nation and women are seen as needing a level of protection not afforded to them, whether in America or the Middle East. Racial identity often encourages this complex domination, creating a distinct form of oppression based on racial and gender hierarchies. Creating liberation within this equation necessitates intersectional solutions and actions that are not met for women by the state. As a result, women often immerse themselves in transnational solidarity and interconnected movements.

International Organizing

The imperative need for transnational solidarity and organizing can be seen in the case of feminist activist, and self-described “internationalist,” Vicki Garvin. In the case study of Vicki Garvin, her desire to be involved in labour union organizing placed her at odds with the anti-communist sentiment of the U.S. state and compelled her to take her activism abroad (Gore 2019). Garvin moved to China to continue her labour activism, and her time there is a case study of how Black-American women connect with transnational organizing due to the intersection of their gen-

der and race, and the political circumstances it often places them in. In Garvin’s case, she was severely affected by the interactions between masculinity and the state, nationalism, security, and race. This effect is one that commonly plagues Black women in political activism, and as a result, Garvin’s time in Shanghai, China, fundamentally shaped her politics.

There is a fundamental need to recognize that “Black women’s empowerment involves revitalizing U.S. Black feminism as a social justice project organized around the dual goals of empowering African American women and fostering social justice in a transnational context” (Gore 2019). Garvin’s time abroad led to her famous speech, “May I, on behalf of the revolutionary Black people of the United States, express our deep love and respect for, and sincere appreciation to Chairman Mao, the world’s revolutionary leader, for his recent statement of encouragement and firm support of the Afro American’s struggle against violent suppression” (Gore 2019). In saying these words, Garvin exemplifies how non-Western, Third World solidarity is possible within transnational liberation movements. Intersectionality plays a massive role in IR, and this can be seen through Garvin’s organizing and desire for political liberation, as shaped by her gender and race.

Women As Outsiders

By persistently portraying important early international political movements as all-male affairs, one will miss revolutionary moments like Garvin’s and the role of organizing against transatlantic slavery and female abolition movements, which laid the groundwork for suffrage organization. Historically, developments in female inclusion within IR’s understanding of power, such as voting and serving in committees of power, have not happened for all women simultaneously. In Pan-Africanism and Anticolonial Politics, Blain (2018) discusses American examples through Amy Ashwood and Amy Jacques Garvey, two wives of Marcus Garvey, a Jamaican political activist and the founder of the Universal Negro Improvement Association. Problems in Marcus Garvey and Amy Ashwood’s marriage destroyed the latter’s reputation, particularly because she was a well-known, politically active Black woman (Blain 2018). A prominent example of

how themes of race destroy women’s connections to institutions, Ashwood was forced into transnational organizing. This occurrence is commonly seen as a result of how quickly women, especially Black women, are dismissed and fail to have their labour recognized. Ashwood moved to London and “joined a vibrant community of Black activists and intellectuals from Nigeria, other British colonial territories [...] to help establish NPU, an anticolonial organization,” (Blain 2018). Meanwhile, Amy Jacques Garvey took over “Our Women” while her husband was incarcerated. Garvey wrote, “If the United States Congress can open their doors to white women, we serve notice on our men that Negro women will demand equal opportunity to fill any position in the Universal Negro Improvement Association or anywhere else without discrimination because of sex” (Blain 2018). This statement shows the historic disconnect between power, the state, and women. As a result, engaging in organizing only within the parameters of the state is nearly impossible when women are constantly subjugated and seen as outsiders, even with the labour and effort they put into political organizing and their communities.

Transnationality

Other case studies, such as that of abolitionist and social activist Harriet Tubman, reveal a similar desire for change and an ongoing awareness that nationalism and borders, whether social, political, or physical, will not stop the kind of transnational organization desired. Broyld (2014) describes this phenomenon: “Tubman could move through and effectively occupy zones of ‘in-betweenness,’ carrying signifiers of more than one identity, while fully embodying none.” Broyld credits this to several factors, including those years Tubman spent as a Canadian resident, her appreciation for Queen Victoria, and her transnational approach to “immigration, movement, and interaction” (Broyld 2014). As a fierce fighter for abolition, Tubman exemplifies how women turn to transnational organizations when they want to fight constructed borders, whether “racial, sexual, or national.” Nations fail women in times like that of abolition, and dismissing these artificial borders, especially when women are seeking greater legal and political rights, is crucial. It is also important to note that Tubman’s influence is an example of transnational solidarity, shown both by

the financial aid received from Canada, New England, western New York, Scotland, and Ireland, and the way that she “inspired others engaged in liberation struggles throughout the African diaspora” (Broyld 2014).

On the other hand, the desire to think of transnational organizing as a necessity for Tubman’s struggles shows a lack of comprehension of the similarities between her, Ashwood, Garvey, Garvin, and Davis. Similar to how Davis found that “a focus on sexual issues alone would not solve the problem of women’s exclusion from the political and economic realms, let alone the problems faced by both men and women such as economic inequality and political disenfranchisement,” Garvin’s efforts show a type of organizing focused on openly resisting Western ideals and creating connections in the Third World through transnational organizing. In Ashwood’s example, the need for transnational organizing can be seen in how the political context of the times and state were at odds with her organizing goals. This disconnect ultimately would send her past traditional borders to foster different associations. For women, the need for transnationality as a protest to the limits of the state, racism, masculinity, and nationalism could be seen as far back as Gerty Archimède’s struggle for decolonial citizenship in the French Antilles in 1946 to 1951.

An early case study of the disconnect between women and the nations they share characteristics with, yet remain outsiders to, is Gerty Archimède’s connection to transnationalism, which contended with colonialism. When writing about Archimède, anticolonial scholar Joseph-Gabriel (2018) states, “Black women have historically challenged, shaped, and defined notions of belonging at various moments in the debate on French national identity.” For Archimède, this transnational organizing began as a result of contested citizenships. However, it ultimately served as a reminder of how the lived experiences of colonized women paint them as outsiders to colonial nations and systems. Archimède, at a time when Black women were influential due to their newfound voting rights, served as a representative in the French National Assembly. Archimède comes from Guadeloupe, which was a contested French colony until 1946. However, her work as a lawyer and politician spans “a larger portion of the African diaspora” because her loyalties did not

lie exclusively with her nation or state (Joseph-Gabriel 2018). Her political commitment viewed freedom as necessary both abroad and at home, with one not being possible without the other. At odds with the French state as a colonial subject, Archimède’s transnational solidarity and organizing were consistently reinforced by her “commitment to Pan-Africanism and her sense of solidarity” (Joseph-Gabriel 2018). Connecting back to the other case studies discussed throughout this paper, there is an ongoing theme of resistance to masculine state behaviour that discriminates against women based on their race, gender, and class. Archimède’s battle consistently aimed to destroy and disturb “colonial structures that continued to determine and shape the economic, social, and political realities of France’s newest departments,” and her case study reflects this sort of transnational response (Joseph-Gabriel 2018).

Final Findings

In the field of IR, specific themes play unignorable and prominent roles in women’s lives and their struggles. Within the case studies of Angela Davis, Vicki Garvin, Harriet Tubman, Gerty Archimède, and all the other women mentioned throughout the paper, the themes of security, masculinity and the state, nationalism, and race have shaped their struggles and their triumphs in transnational organizing. Across different countries, eras, political movements, and economic struggles, the stories of these women show how the construction of the state, embedded with masculine ideals and exclusions, perpetuates the marginalization of women, positioning them as outsiders within power hierarchies and leaving them high and dry in times of need. The solution to this depends on a multitude of factors but shows how the response to Nagel’s question: “As women enter the political realm in greater numbers around the world, will we see a shifting of state agendas and a decoupling of nationalism from masculinity?” posed at the beginning of the paper is not affirmative. However, transnational organizing has been necessary for creating progress and solidarity to try to decouple masculinity and encourage a safer state of security for women, who are often left to bear their own problems outside of IR’s priorities.

The cases discussed above exemplify the way transnational solidarity is a crucial, if underrated,

source of improvement to the systematic inequalities that women, especially Black women, face as a result of the masculine state. The exclusion of women from traditional IR frameworks also demonstrates how transnational solidarity becomes a method to address the masculine state’s inherent ties with systematic inequality. Meanwhile, the feminist initiatives and tireless work discussed throughout this paper show how solidarity and interconnected movements can transcend national boundaries. As a result, there is increased advocacy for intersectional solutions and actions to address women’s struggles with multifaceted forms of oppression. This kind of approach can reshape the discourse within IR, especially feminist IR, possibly planting the seeds for a different response to Nagel’s question in the future. The historical and contemporary case studies discussed in this paper only serve to exemplify the need for transnational organizing for women as traditional outsiders in IR. By combatting the racist, sexist, and nationalist exclusions imposed onto them by a masculine-dominated state and power hierarchies, women are active participants in shifting the global political landscape through transnational organizing.

References

Blain, Keisha N. 2018. “Pan-Africanism and Anticolonial Politics.” In Set the world on fire: black nationalist women and the global struggle for freedom. University of Pennsylvania Press.

Broyld, D.J. 2014. “Harriet Tubman: Transnationalism and the Land of a Queen in the Late Antebellum.” Meridians: feminism, race, transnationalism 12 (2), 78-98

Enloe, Cynthia H. 2014. “Gender Makes the World Go Round: Where Are the Women?” In Bananas, Beaches and Bases: Making Feminist Sense of International Politics. University of California Press, 1-36.

Gore, Dayo F. 2019. “A Common Rallying Call’: Vicki Garvin in China and the Making of US Third World Solidarity Politics.” In To turn the whole world over black women and internationalism. University of Illinois Press, 235-255.

Hill Collins, Patricia. 2002. “The Politics of Black Feminist Thought.” In Black Feminist Thought: Knowledge, Consciousness, and the Politics of Empowerment. Taylor & Francis Group.

Joseph-Gabriel, Annette. 2018. “Gerty Archimède and the Struggle for Decolonial Citizenship in the French Antilles, 1946-51.” In Black French Women and the Struggle for Equality, 1848-2016. University of Nebraska Press, 89-106.

Manchanda, Nivi, and Leah de Haan. 2018. “Gender, Nation, and Nationalism.” In Race, Gender, and Culture in International Relations Postcolonial Perspectives, Routledge: 80–95.

Nagel, Joane. 1998. “Masculinity and nationalism: gender and sexuality in the making of nations.” Ethnic and Racial Studies 21 (2): 242-269. 10.1080/014198798330007

Peterson, V. Spike. 1994. “Gendered nationalism.” Peace Review 6 (1): 77-83, 10.1080/10402659408425777

Salem, Sara. 2018. “On Transnational Feminist Solidarity: The Case of Angela Davis in Egypt,” Signs: Journal of Women in Culture and Society 43 (2): 245267.

About the Author

Emily Poltorac (she/her) is a fourth year Political Studies and History Major.

Her research interests are: Social Politics, Welfare Politics, Historical Politics, and Electoral Systems.

Closing the Digital Divide: Technological Access as Virtual Colonialism

Tatyana Leduc

Introduction

Where would the world be without technology? It is becoming increasingly difficult to visualize such a place as international businesses and states race each other to develop the most advance tools, software, and programs. At the same time, the saturation of technology in high income regions has only brought more attention to the “have-nots” of technological access. In academia, this phenomenon has been termed the “digital divide,” describing the varying degrees of access and use of digital technologies that exist between different groups in society (Dijk 2020). As part of creating a more equitable world, international agencies, governments, and policymakers hope to close the digital divide by providing access to technology and teaching digital literacy. With access to physical technology growing, the parameters through which the digital divide is understood in policy and global development projects has continued to be expanded over the last several decades. Despite this, literature surrounding the digital divide still largely fails to acknowledge a critical aspect of the digital world: how the internet itself continues to reflect and reproduce issues like racism and inequality in society (Moyo 2017). Specifically, although non-Western communities and Indigenous peoples globally have been subject to relations of dependency, exploitation, extraction by governments and institutions, these relations have often been overlooked as relevant to the digital divide.

The digital divide cannot be examined effectively unless scholars begin to acknowledge the internet as a power structure which acts to exclude, exploit, and exaggerate the inequalities experienced in the society. More so, in understanding internet access and literacy, scholars must first understand the digital divide as part of a larger structure of virtual colonialism, meaning the reproduction of colonialism through technology, knowledge, culture, and power

(Moyo 2017). This essay argues that while the physical technological divide closes, virtual colonialism will continue to be reproduced in non-Western and Indigenous communities globally. Separated into two parts, I will first explore the impact of technology on Indigenous communities in the Global North, outlining how the structures of the Internet can be a tool to promote Western agendas as well as inhibit Indigenous knowledge. Following this, I will examine how the accumulation of data as a new scramble for Africa as well as adverse digital incorporations highlight the exploitative nature of project to close the digital divide without analyzing the potential for virtual colonialism. By drawing these conclusions, I suggest that the digital divide must go beyond the issue of physical technological accessibility, acknowledging how exploitation of the Global South and cultural erasure of Indigenous communities in the Global North are as real online as they are in “real life.”

Cultural Assimilation

In the Global North, it is sometimes assumed that by providing Indigenous groups access to technology, governments and NGOs can help bridge social, economic, and political inequalities in their communities. Correspondingly, this implies that this technology will enable them to access new opportunities and a better quality of life by sharing knowledge in more communities around the world. While there have been positive aspects to increasing internet accessibility, it is equally important to recognize that the internet has also been a space which enables assimilatory and inhibitory tools, exhibiting virtual colonialism towards Indigenous peoples in the Global North. For instance, Young (2019) argues this perspective oversimplifies digital participation, overlooking the knowledge structures of the internet which fails to accommodate non-Eurocentric logics in online spaces. This is evident in the ways Eurocentric based tools, such as

Geographic Information Systems are also far more embedded into pre-existing structures of the internet than Indigenous centred land practices, making it challenging to incorporate platforms tailored to Indigenous communities (Young 2019). Instead of incorporating experiential knowledge––which is essential to Indigenous cultures––cartesian territorial logic is typically used as the primary depiction of the land. So, while the internet and communication technologies provide connectivity, they are inherently not constructed with the capabilities to allow Indigenous people to share their ways of seeing the world. Instead, Indigenous participation on the Internet requires them to conform to Eurocentric ways of knowing (Young 2019). Thus, as a space composed primarily of programs and software which suppress Indigenous knowledge forms, it should be acknowledged the internet underlyingly maintains the belief that Eurocentric knowledge is a dominant and superior ideology.

In addition to the affordances of the softwares used on the internet, the predominance of virtual colonialism on the Internet is also visible in the languages it uses. In particular, the lack of diverse language accessibility on the internet prevents meaningful change to occur with the increase of technological access. According to Moyo (2017), five of the top 10 languages on the internet are European, noting a lack of Indigenous languages present online. This is problematic in several ways. For one, without being able to read available languages online, the internet becomes an extremely challenging, if not impossible, place to navigate. Compounded with existing issues relating to assimilatory nature of the internet, the baseline of having to acquire new language skills to access resources on the internet also places unfair barriers for those from non-Eurocentric communities whilst privileging those from the West. Instead, non-European language speaking regions or Indigenous communities who wish to utilize their own languages are forced to fit and conform to European norms by learning or using a second language, like English, to access the internet. This is an example of the coloniality of knowledge, which Moyo (2017) describes as the presentation of Eurocentric or Western knowledge as universal, casting traditional Indigenous and non-Eurocentric knowledge forms to the periphery. It is through this process, non-Eurocentric knowledge becomes known as the

alternative or presented as supplementary, unnecessary, or backwards. This binary between the traditional and the modern, the intelligent and the backwards, perpetuates the acceptance of predominantly white, European rooted languages as standard forms of communication on the Internet. These underlying messages propagate what Edward Said (1978) coined as Orientalism and Stuart Hall (1992) calls the “West and the Rest.” This is the juxtaposition of the West and the ‘rest,’ depicting themselves as superior to the ‘rest’ of the world to justify its decisions to colonize the Global South and its supposed dominant position over Indigenous communities (Said 1978; Hall 1992). The spread of this ideology has increased through mechanisms like the predominance of European languages, false representations, and incompatibility of Indigenous knowledge forms on the Internet.

Orientalism highlights how knowledge coloniality within the construction of the Internet has transformed the online space into a site to exercise control over the ‘rest.’ This is because, as Orientalism highlights, there is an abuse of power which has shaped how the Internet will be used and by whom. The structures of the internet are built as a mechanism to exclude, while also showcasing a prevalence of Western and Europe-centric ways of thinking. These inequalities expand beyond the visible elements of the Internet. Even the coding of the Internet maintains the exclusion of Indigenous groups. For example, Davidson (2017) argues the coding used to make some of the most popular webpages on the Internet were created by American-European developers using an American-English structure. While the language itself may not be English, it is mediated by English characters and signages to create and make meaning. The problem is English has predominantly been associated with colonialism, cultural loss, and oppression (Davidson 2017). It acts as a signifier of these histories and how it continues to be embedded in globalized structures, like the Internet. For someone whose first language is not English, the lack of alternatives represents a larger process of assimilation to Euro-Western ideals. The standardization of the English language as a fundamental component of the online world attempts to render non-Western and Indigenous signifiers as inferior. This domination and propagation of Euro-centric forms of communication over other versions shapes

these processes as virtual colonialism.

As demonstrated by the inhibition of Indigenous peoples online within the Global North, the technological divide presents itself as an issue of structural exclusion in addition to being an issue of physical access. Similarly, it is through these structures that the Internet can also provide a new place where racial violence and appropriation can take place, rather than reduce the prevalence of these behaviours. To illustrate, a pressing concern for Indigenous populations online is that, when parts of the internet are not managed by Indigenous groups, there is an increased misrepresentation and hostility towards their communities (Dyson 2011). Where Indigenous culture is shared by non-Indigenous voices, their cultures tend to either be commodified or decontextualized from the community it originated from. For instance, Dyson (2011) describes that it can be difficult to identify those impersonating their Indigenous identity to cause misinformation, harm, or self-benefit when sharing content online, particularly within Western regions where Indigenous peoples reside, such as Canada, America, Australia, and New Zealand. Although it is imperative for Indigenous peoples from the West to continue to communicate with one another and share their cultures online, as there is little ability for moderation of this type of racist and exploitative action, the affordance of racist acts directed towards Indigenous peoples online puts them at risk. This is in part a repercussion of the underlying foundations of the internet, which is based on Eurocentric logic, platforms, softwares, and programs, causing an affordance of racist acts towards Indigenous peoples. Because the internet has been constructed with Eurocentric logic and users in mind, its creators fundamentally failed to identify a need for preventative measures in the first place. Thus, the presence of these behaviours online is in of itself another form of virtual colonialism, whereby racial violence is not being limited but rather transitioning and transforming into the digital world. As a result, this serves to keep spaces on the Internet predominantly Westernized and allows racism towards Indigenous peoples to thrive.

Big Data

Another medium through which virtual co-

lonialism continues to be perpetuated is through the collection of Big Data from the Global South by companies from the Global North. This describes the collection, storage, and analysis of a high volume, velocity, and variety of information to transform it as a valuable commodity (Villars, Olofson and Eastwood 2011). Within these databases, there is a divide between the data-rich and the data-poor. Those with the ability to create, buy, and store these large datasets are known as data rich. On the other hand, those who are excluded from these processes and inhibited access are deemed data-poor (Aurora 2016). The bottom part of this data pyramid––roughly four billion people who live on less than $2 USD a day––is mostly comprised of populations in the Global South (Aurora 2016). Through the technological inclusion of these communities, Big Data companies have been able to collect information from regions which were previously unaccounted for in their databases to be stored, analyzed, and commodified to advertisers seeking new markets. At the same time, populations at the bottom of the pyramid are left without the tools to understand how their data is being used, by whom, and for what purposes.

Coleman (2018) compares the presence of Big Data in new regions as a second scramble for Africa. This first took place in the late 19th Century, where European powers rushed to divide up the continent of Africa to create new colonies that would support the motherland. Asserting their control over the territory, they stripped away the legal sovereignty of Indigenous peoples on the land in the belief that they were evolutionarily backwards (Coleman 2018). Under colonialism, nations in the Global South were also dispossessed of their traditional ways of life and forcibly encouraged to take on the approaches implemented by the European colonizer. This was to make way for the Global North to extract natural resources from Indigenous land for their own benefit. As Coleman (2018) iterates, even though many of these nations have been decolonized, these tensions of imperial control and exploitation continue to persist through the internet. However, instead of conquering land, Big Data companies from the United States are scrambling to be the first to colonize new markets by institutionalizing their digital technology in the Global South (Kwet 2019).

As Coleman argues (2018), instead of natural

resources, money, and weapons, data has become one of the most valuable currencies one can possess (Coleman 2018). Expanding on this concept, Heeks (2022) has coined the term “adverse digital incorporations.” This is defined as the inclusion of marginalized groups through digital technology so that more-advantaged groups can extract resources, like data, from them (Heeks 2022). Utilizing adverse digital incorporation within projects and scholarship that addresses the digital divide, critical analysis can be made about the implications of companies like Google, Facebook, Amazon, Microsoft, and Apple conquering new spaces to growing inequalities and power imbalances within the internet. One example of this is explored by Kwet (2019), who analyzed the South African government’s Operation Phakisa in Education (OPE). OPE is a plan to fast-track the implementation of technologies from the United States and internet literacy into classrooms across South African schools. On the surface, it may seem like a strategy to help bridge the gap of technology and technological knowledge in South African youth. However, because of the ability for data to disproportionately enrich the American companies who are providing the technology, the implementation of communication technologies by the OPE is more about increasing data extraction than the quality of education for students. Under the veil of development and creating a better life, companies have inserted themselves into these new markets looking to monopolize data whose potential was previously untapped. In other words, it is a prime example of Coleman’s (2018) description of a new “Scramble for Africa.” Big Tech companies have recognized that the African data market remains to be conquered in similar ways imperialist countries sought to seize control over foreign territories for natural resources (Coleman, 2018). Increasing their yield of data enables them to make more profit, therefore it is in their favour to find ways to control and extract information from this market through various means, such as increasing technological access. Hence, technological access is not just about the implementation of technology or bridging accessibility across class, age, race, gender and ethnicity. Rather, as Heeks (2022) describes, incentives to close these gaps are more focused on increasing inequality by extracting data from historically marginalized communities.

Processes of exploitation are also an issue of surveillance. Data collection in the Global South is associated with a complex and traumatic history of Western countries supporting increased surveillance in the Global South as a means of control and suppression. As such, imbalances of power between Big Tech companies, the U.S. government, and consumers in the Global South, continue to be one of the most concerning problems associated with increasing technological access. In the past, Western companies like IBM have contributed to racial conflict in South Africa during the Apartheid by providing the punch cards which enabled the population to be categorized under a four-race system (Kwet 2019). Additionally, in the mid-19th Century, the British implemented biometric surveillance to help control the populations in their colonies (Aurora, 2016). More recently, Edward Snowden, former computer intelligence consultant for the National Security Agency (NSA), released reports describing how the United States surveyed its citizens through cooperation with telecommunication companies (Anastácio 2016). With adverse digital incorporations, the collection, storage, and categorization of data has become more prevalent. Yet, the projects which Big Data companies work on, including the OPE plan, continue to be idealized as empowering marginalized groups with restricted technological access, rather than something to be wary of.

The risk for increased surveillance that is enabled by access into new markets is extremely important to recognize in closing the technology gap. When ignored, this can provide immense power to the organizations who strongly encourage the user to give up personal information––which Big Data can use to monitor and control the population––in order to gain access to the technology. This can be observed in India’s Biometric Identity Project, Aadhaar, which promised to improve welfare for its poorest populations, prevent fraud, and improve accessibility to public services by collecting biometric data (Aurora 2016). Instead of needing technological access to store important documents, anyone registered in the program can be identified through their biometrics. Pitched as a pro-poor initiative, it bears close resemblance to other colonial projects, such as the creation of IBM’s punch cards or fingerprint collection by the British empire, in the way that biometrics are collected and stored by the

government. It is also a strong example of how adverse technological inclusion massively profit by collecting the information while putting the data poor at risk. For instance, by linking data silos such as banking information, passports, and health records together, the primarily poor populations using the program are left vulnerable to data mining and identify theft, giving criminals access to all the most important documented aspects of their lives (Sudhir and Sunder 2020). Just as the colonial projects before it, this project also allows the government to become data-rich with the potential to exhibit power over the data-poor by enabling them access to all their sensitive information. The difference is, Aadhaar uses the same colonial power structures of surveillance without labelling itself as a surveillance measure (Aurora 2016). This example highlights while it is important for everyone to be able to have access to the same technological opportunities, the power of one’s data must remain at the forefront of scholarship and projects which look to close the technology gap.

Avenues Forward and Their Limitations

Understanding the technological divide requires more than a one-dimensional approach. The technological divide and any solutions proposed must consider the ways colonialism continues to have detrimental effects on the groups it exploits. On one hand, scholars and policymakers must consider how Big Data collection in the Global South is connected to long histories of colonial exploitation of resources from communities in the Global South. On the other hand, they also must not discount how the structures of communication technologies and the internet are constructed to favour the sharing of Western knowledge. Both aspects of virtual coloniality are essential to gaining a comprehensive understanding of how the digital divide is as much of a social, political, and economic issue as it is a technical one.

To address cultural barriers on the Internet, scholars like Moyo (2017) are pushing for a pluriversal Internet, meaning an Internet where many different worlds, cultures, and perspectives can exist harmoniously by transforming the roots of exclusion online (Kothari 2019). In the context of the digital divide, an example is making intentional efforts to have languages on the peripheries equally as accessible as the

popularized European ones. One problem with this approach is it would not resolve the ways in which, as Young (2019) explains, the Internet is currently constructed to share dominantly Western forms of knowledge. However, this would be an important starting point to make the Internet and communication technologies more inclusive. This has already been witnessed with the expansion of languages like Mandarin and Korean on websites throughout the Internet (Moyo 2017). Instead of having to conform to dominant European languages, under this pluriversal model anyone could interact in their native language. This would help to decolonize the online sphere and perhaps provide opportunities for cultural knowledge to be shared and consumed in more egalitarian, inclusive ways.

To decrease colonial control of data around the globe, transparency could be increased around the management and moderation of data by Big Tech companies. Scholars, such as Sneed (2020), argue that Big Data companies should be required by governments to provide more options to allow their users to decide what data, and how that data, is used. Sneed also recommends that governments create information campaigns to inform their citizens about how their data is being used for profit. Problematically, these kinds of actions might not be enticing for governments in the Global South to take, as it may discourage tech companies from investing in their economies in the future. Furthermore, while information campaigns might help to bring awareness to issues surrounding adverse digital inclusion and data collection, they do not have the means to stop data monopolies entirely.

One way to overcome this obstacle would be for governments in the Global South to provide incentives and funding to enable localized Big Data companies to form. Theoretically, this could reduce the exploitation of data from the Global South by companies in the Global North by creating networks or technology that promote their economies and values. However, this solution has limitations. For instance, Kwet (2019) argues that it would be impossible for firms in the Global South to compete with the tech giants of the Global North. He states that networks in the Global South will not be able to generate enough traction to overcome the network effects of large tech

companies. Kwet (2019) also argues that the cost of infrastructure and skilled programmers to create these new networks would make it nearly impossible to turn a profit when competing with multi-billion-dollar corporations in the Global North. Thus, while there is potential for it to provide more agency and empowerment to individuals in the Global South, this approach might also be challenging to implement successfully.

Conclusion

Processes of virtual colonialism on the internet have been naturalized as part of the online world. However, through the implementation of more technology in communities around the globe, these issues are becoming increasingly prevalent. To deconstruct structures of exploitation on the Internet, information communication technologies face the challenge of confronting a complex intersection of historical marginalization and contemporary power imbalances. Furthermore, the digital divide can no longer be adequately understood in terms of physical access to technology and digital skills. Digital literacy is ineffectual in promoting technological inclusion when the structures of the internet serve to undermine the communities they are trying to target. Rather, the digital divide must begin to conceptualize technological accessibility as contributing to adverse digital inclusion. Understanding the digital divide from this perspective highlights how colonial relationships, digital exploitation of the Global South, and cultural erasure of Indigenous communities continue to persist online. As a result, it enables policymakers, governments, and scholars to work towards deconstructing virtual colonialism and reconstructing diverse measures of inclusivity online.

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About the Author

Tatyana Leduc (she/her) is a fourth year Political Studies Major and Sociology Minor.

Her research interests are: Climate Change, and Environment and Sustainable Development Strategies

Introduction

The Cult of Motherhood

Marisa Fitzgerald

The cycle of motherhood is endless––every girl is borne of a mother, who is borne of a mother and so on and so forth. All girls are inevitably born into a life of association with motherhood and even without a traditional mother figure in their life, every girl feels the influence of this association. All mothers have a different story. Some were once girls that were so strongly influenced by this association that they were brought to the decision to continue the cycle, and others unintentionally fell into this path for various reasons. What makes them alike is their shared role as a mother, whether they wanted this role or not. Motherhood is something that can be beautiful and can provide important purpose for some. However, this beauty and purpose should not conceal just how great and, at times, how difficult of a task it is to take on. Ultimately, this article will demonstrate that the dangerous and, as shall be termed, cult-like social construction of motherhood aims to enforce unrealistic standards and expectations. Thus, in order to provide more sufficient care to mothers, this cult-like construction must be abandoned.

In what is to come, this article will present a practical discussion of motherhood that reveals a clear line between idealization and real life. First, it will examine public perceptions of motherhood, mapping the history of ideologies from past to present. Then it will discuss the comparative point that motherhood is cultlike. Following this, ideas of what a mother “ought” to be and how this forms part of the cult of motherhood, as well as the way in which public ideologies interact with the cult will be presented. The article will then discuss how the cult of motherhood is designed in a manner that disadvantages marginalized mothers, as well as how the welfare state’s reproduction of the cult of motherhood has encouraged insufficient governmental policies. Finally, it will take a look at a few

cases of marginalized mothers and conclude by briefly discussing in what way the welfare state should be intervening in order to provide sufficient support.

Mapping Public Ideologies of Motherhood

Overarching public ideologies regarding a mother’s role shape the expectations society seeks of mothers. From the 1900s until the 1980s, the public ideology surrounding mothering was one of maternalism. This ideology was extremely gendered and distinguished men and women based on their “natural” capacities. Within this model, men acted as economic providers, naturally seeking and carrying out employment. Women acted as natural caregivers, carrying out their presupposed role to bear children and make sacrifices to provide care for their children. In the 1940s (the immediate postwar period of the Second World War) a family wage model emerged which re-enforced these traditional gender roles. Even though the gender division of this era in itself left very minimal space for women to find a place in the labour market, the government took actions to re-enforce the fact that mothers were not to seek employment. The government sought to ensure that mothers remained attentive to their one and only responsibility, being a mother; even resorting to doing so in intrusive manners. For instance, the Government of Ontario extensively surveilled mothers seeking Mother’s Allowance by monitoring their actions and encouraging them not to seek high paying jobs but instead to seek low paying domestic positions (Krull & Sempruch 2011).

The mid-1990s saw the emergence of neo-liberal ideology. Certain academics have indicated that this new ideology has brought dramatic changes and even greater challenges than were already faced by mothers under the preceding ideology (Krull & Sempruch 2011). Ross and Wilton (2020) indicate that “[n]eoliberalism represented a backlash against the

welfare state of the postwar period and argued for more market freedom and less government and state interference (both in markets and the lives of individuals).” Instead of the state, mothers face the onus of responsibility at a greater capacity than ever before. Caring work was essentially made invisible and from this point onwards, mothering was no longer regarded as a mothers’ first and only duty. Instead, in addition to caring for their children, mothers become responsible for procuring employment and the state, as well as the market, possessed little recognition of the ways in which a mother’s duties in caring for their children would interfere with their capacity to both procure and complete this paid work. Neither the state, nor the market faced the blame for high rates of unemployment, but instead it was pushed onto the individual, particularly those who were most dependent on the state (Krull & Sempruch 2011).

The Cult of Motherhood

The term “cult” is often used to refer to an extreme religious group that practices harmful beliefs and rituals which are distinct from mainstream society. However, the term cult is not always used in such a narrow manner but can be broadly used to refer to strongly held, and perhaps unconsciously held, beliefs as well as the possessing of deeply held and deeply idealized ideologies. In other words, a cult, as per the word itself, is synonymous of a popular culture. Motherhood can be likened to a cult due to its association with deeply ingrained beliefs and expectations, coupled with its historical and ongoing idealization. Although this comparison to some may be quite controversial or contested, this comparison has been made by other individuals. Take for instance an article written by Anne Heltzel, the author of a book titled “Just Like Mother” (2022). Heltzel is a woman who by age 33 had decided to freeze her eggs, spending daunting amounts of money to keep the “option” of motherhood open, to finally realize that it was not anything she truly intended to pursue. Heltzel claims to be complicit to the cult of motherhood. She claims that societal pressures pushed her to buy into and perpetuate the cult of motherhood. She states,

“[w]e’re conditioned basically from birth to opt in [to the cult of motherhood]. It’s not a coincidence

that baby dolls are arguably the most popular toy for anyone born with a uterus. We’re taught to mimic motherhood when our brains are still squishy and spongelike, and by… our mid-twenties we might already be pregnant; if we aren’t, the inevitability of parenthood is by then deeply ingrained” (Heltzel 2022).

This piece of commentary points to a frightening truth, which is that the cult of motherhood is not easily escaped. In fact, very little people truly escape it. It surrounds everyone in invisible ways, influencing popular culture and being enforced by popular culture.

Good Mothering Ideology + Intensive Mothering Ideology

Certain academics have identified ideologies that arguably not only re-enforce the cult of motherhood but form a part of the cult. These ideologies encompass the idea of what a mother “ought” to be, or in other words what makes a “good” vs “bad” mother. A notable ideology that is broadly encompassing is the Good Mothering Ideology. Williams et. al (2023) notes that this ideology is based on the notion that “… mothers are ‘good’ if their behaviours and beliefs align with the tenets of dominant mothering discourse, or ‘bad’ if they do not” (102). Within the tenets of dominant mothering discourse is the idea that mothering is instinctive as well as the idea that women are inherently capable and naturally desire to nurture and rear children (Williams, et. al 2023, 102).

Other ideologies fall under the scope of the Good Mothering Ideology and further characterize what a mother “ought” to be. Most notably is the Intensive Mothering Ideology coined by Hays. This ideology indicates that women are the most equipped caregivers and that they should routinely sacrifice personal needs for the needs of their children. A mother who does not wholly give themselves to the rearing of their children is deemed unfit and undeserving of support (Taylor & Bloch 2018). With this, these ideologies can be thought of as formative components of the cult of motherhood. The cult of motherhood is not just a societal pressure to become a mother, but also societal pressures regarding what kind of mother every woman ought to be.

This paper will now examine the cult of motherhood in the context of the public ideologies that have been previously mapped––these are the maternalist and the neo-liberal ideology. What has remained consistent regardless of changes in ideology is the presence of the cult of motherhood. In the maternalist ideology, the presence of the cult of motherhood is quite intuitive. This ideology in itself is formed on the basis of gender roles and traditional ideas regarding a woman and a man’s natural role. Maternalism is a clear root to the ideas surrounding the cult of motherhood as it diminishes a woman to their maternal capacities, seeing motherhood as the inevitable progression of their life.

The transition from maternalism to neo-liberalism brought the illusion of a step towards a progression past the cult of motherhood. This shift in ideology saw women in the workforce and thus made it so women were not merely essentialized to their “natural” capacities and thus “natural” role as mothers. The idea that men were the sole economic provider, as well as the pressure women faced against seeking positions in the labour was abandoned, at least on the surface. However, this step forward was introduced alongside an extreme step backwards. Neo-liberalism has encouraged women’s capacity to be the economic provider and to enter the workforce; yet, this entering of the workforce is not truly a decision, but more so a path the state seeks to enforce. Neo-liberalism has placed employment as an additional expectation on top of mothering. The state sees neo-liberalism as a sort of movement towards market freedom and lessened government intervention, but this is merely a manner for the state to decrease its already grave lack of support. In the period of maternalism, the state did not provide sufficient financial support to empower women to stay home and to only focus on the care of their children, even though this is the model of life the state was pushing. Mothers of that time had to seek employment in secret, so as to not draw the attention of the state and risk what financial support they were receiving; often performing low paying and sometimes dangerous domestic work. Now, the state has found an excuse to provide even less support than they did

in prior eras; claiming they are doing so to encourage less government intervention. Not all mothers today are given the “option” to enter the workforce, they are required to do so because they do not have sufficient welfare support to rely upon.

Our society has not evolved beyond the cult of motherhood, but it has evolved alongside it. The state and the greater public still possess a perception of motherhood that is deeply idealized and out of touch. The transition from maternalism to neo-liberalism did not acknowledge the weight and reality of motherhood, in fact it created a greater division between idealization and reality, placing even larger responsibilities on mothers than ever before.

The Disproportionate Impact on Marginalized Mothers

The cult of motherhood does not interact with all mothers in the same manner. In fact, there are certainly some mothers who manage to successfully meet the expectations of the cult, on the surface, at the very least. Unfortunately, it is more common than not that mothers struggle to meet the expectations set out by the cult of motherhood. Crane and Christopher (2018) point to the importance of possessing an intersectional perspective when looking to understand the experiences of motherhood. That is to keep in mind the reality that different factors of identity, such as race, gender, socioeconomic status, sexuality, etc., intersect to form a person and the ways in which they are either advantaged or disadvantaged. No mother is exactly alike, and with this comes the fact that mothers possess differing levels of privilege. Crane and Christopher (2018) also bring to light the fact that expectations regarding what a mother ought to be, such as the Intensive Mothering Ideology are “… modeled on the practices of White, middle class, married mothers” (2018, 179). It requires little explanation to understand why the intersection of these identities make up mothers of utmost privilege.

Those who bear the negative weight of the cult of motherhood are marginalized mothers. Mothers may be considered marginalized for varying reasons; a few examples are low-income mothers; racial or ethnic minority mothers; single mothers; adolescent mothers;

abused mothers; immigrant or refugee mothers and disabled mothers. The factors that privilege some and marginalize others are the factors that make the cult of motherhood attainable for some and unattainable for others. Marginalized mothers face certain systemic barriers that mothers who are not marginalized do not face. The Government of Canada (2023) defines systemic barriers as,

“… attitudes, policies, practices or systems that result in individuals from certain population groups receiving unequal access to or being excluded from participation in employment, services or programs (e.g., through discrimination, racism, sexism, homophobia, transphobia, ableism, etc.).”

Equally important to note is that these barriers result from “… individual, societal, or institutional practices, policies, traditions, and or/values that may be “unintended” or “unseen” to those who do not experience them” (Government of Canada 2023). With this definition in mind, the cult of motherhood can be identified as the cause for the systemic barriers that marginalized mothers face. The ideas that have been fostered and reinforced in this cult-like construction of motherhood create unrealistic expectations for mothers but also encourage society and the state to place the blame on the mother when they fail to meet these expectations. This cult hides the systemic ways that society and the state have failed to support mothers.

The Welfare State’s Inadequacy

The prime way in which the state has perpetuated these systemic barriers is the failure to facilitate a welfare state that effectively supports the needs of marginalized mothers. To begin, it is important to define what the term welfare state refers to. Blum and Kuhlmann (2021) point to the notable fact that a welfare state is defined by certain academics in different manners, but most importantly, it changes from country to country and largely depends on the development of the country it exists within. In any case, Blum and Kuhlmann (2021) explain that the key factors of most welfare states regard policy sectors that include, “… old-age policy, labour market policy, healthcare, longterm care, disability, social assistance, family policy,

housing, and (especially in most recent years) education…” (2021, 82). Essentially the welfare state is responsible for the well-being of its citizens with regards to the policy sectors indicated above. However, Taylor and Bloch (2018) point to the fact that “[i]deologies that privilege some mothers while marginalize others are supported by Institutions of the State… through policy making (or the lack of…) and policy implementation…” (2018, 2). This fact indicates a failure on the part of welfare states to effectively maintain the well-being of their citizens, particularly those who are marginalized.

Welfare states around the world tend to develop customs of deservingness. These are notions of who deserves support and who does not deserve support. These customs of deservingness end up being reflected in the policy or lack of policy that each individual welfare state implements. Knots et., al (2021) indicate that “… [t]arget populations that are commonly seen in a positive light are less likely to be the targets of cutbacks and more likely to benefit from expansions than those who are seen in a negative light” (2021, 928). This statement brings attention to two relevant points. The first regards the welfare state and cutbacks. Welfare states tend to adopt austerity measures. This refers to the cutting of expenditures in order to reduce government spending which is done through self-imposed cuts on the direct expenses of welfare states (Farnsworth & Irving 2021). The second point is that these austerity measures are done so in a very political manner. The cuts are made in conjunction with publicly held ideas of deservingness. The welfare state is more inclined to target their spending cuts on groups of individuals who are seen in a negative light and thus seen as undeserving.

Marginalized mothers are a group of individuals who are highly stigmatized and because of their social perception, they are quite often viewed in a negative light. As previously discussed, the ideologies that dominate perceptions of what a mother “ought” to be are formed on the basis of mothers of the utmost privilege. As such, these mothers are the ones who are seen in quite positive lights and do not fall victim to such extreme fiscal cutbacks. Nevertheless, an important thought to keep in mind is that these mothers, who possess privileges that marginalized mothers do not,

are not the group of individuals who seek or necessitate welfare support. In fact, it is marginalized mothers who seek this support and who are most at risk of not receiving such support.

Cases of Marginalized Mothers and the Welfare States Inadequate Support

In what follows, this paper will discuss a few groups of marginalized mothers and their interaction with welfare states. The few cases that will be presented are by no means encompassing of all cases of marginalized mothers who struggle to receive adequate welfare support. However, they do ultimately bring light to the continued presence of the cult of motherhood and paint the scene of marginalized mothers and welfare state inadequacy.

Abused Mothers

Abused mothers are one of many groups of marginalized mothers whose stories demonstrate extreme inadequacies on the part of different welfare states. A relevant term to this discussion is what is referred to as “mother-protector.” This term describes, “… the dominant construction of motherhood in social policy that firmly establishes the mother as wholly responsible for their children within post-industrial capitalist societies” (Bimpson, Parr, and Reeves 2022, 275). Note that this term falls directly within the Intensive Mothering Ideology. This idea of a mother as the protector of their children is so pervasive that a mother is often held accountable for the actions of others who may maltreat their child. What this does is create extremely negative connotations for mothers that are abused. In fact, a study conducted by Bimpson, Parr, and Reeves (2022) in the U.K. indicates that abused mothers are considered to be neglectful by having “allowed” their child to witness their own abuse.

This stigmatized perception of abused mothers converts what is in reality a “need for help” to “evidence of risk,” placing these mothers under the category of neglect. Studies have indicated that many welfare states have failed to effectively provide abused mothers with shelter, a safe place away from their abuser, and sufficient financial support. Bimpson, Parr and Reeves recount stories of mothers in the U.K. who

have had their children removed from their custody; expressing the tendency of the welfare state to commit mother-blaming. They recount the sheer rate at which abused mothers’ resort to homelessness because of insufficient support. Mosher (2004) recounts the stories of abused mothers in Ontario, stating that of all the interviewees in their study, nearly every single one expressed that the social assistance money they received was not sufficient to meet their basic needs and the needs of their children. Even reports that after paying shelter costs, they were left with no additional allowance money for other needs. Mosher even points to the fact that it is quite common for abused women receiving welfare to return to an abusive relationship because they are unable to adequately provide for themselves and their children on the support of the welfare state alone.

Sole Support Mothers

In order to discuss the interaction of sole support mothers, it is important to look at the implementation of welfare-to-work (WtW). Campbell et., al (2016) defines this as the requirement that “… benefit claimants… prove that they are actively seeking employment, or to participate in training programmes intended to improve employability” (2016, 2). With the emergence of neoliberal ideology also came the emergence of employment as an additional responsibility placed upon mothers. Campbell et., al (2016) discuss the presence of WtW systems in the U.S., Canada, U.K, Australia, and New Zealand. Their study finds that one overarching issue is a conflict between mothers’ requirement to participate in WtW activities and their parenting and domestic obligations. Employment commitments and WtW appointments often conflict with the flexibility that sole-support mothers require to care for their children.

Another important point to note is the lack of control that sole support mothers possess when seeking welfare support. For instance, with regards to WtW interventions, mothers possess little control over what employment they apply for. In fact, they are expected to apply to all employment opportunities regardless of suitability. On the same note, marginalized mothers, which certainly includes sole-support mothers, but is not limited to them, face the extremely

intrusive nature of welfare states. Race and Stefanick (2020) point to the fact that “… as mothers move away from traditional mothering stereotypes, state support morphs into state control” (2020, 44). They indicate that mothers who receive welfare support are “… subjected to various types of surveillance and are punished for nonconforming behavior in a way that other mothers are not” (2020, 44).

Abandoning the Cult of Motherhood

Welfare states worldwide have shown inadequate support towards mothers, particularly marginalized mothers. The inadequate welfare support is rooted in a failure to acknowledge the true nature of motherhood, and this disconnect from reality is synonymous to the cult of motherhood. Welfare states must work to connect themselves to the reality of just how burdensome motherhood can be, especially for marginalized communities, and work to implement policies that are reflective of the real-life struggles they face. As first steps in combatting the cult of motherhood, welfare states must ensure that their interventions are done in manners that protect the privacy and allow a maintenance of control of one’s lives, for all recipients of welfare support. Welfare states must also work to implement intentionally targeted support for marginalized mothers. There is a tendency to implement broad sweeping policies that allow communities in need to go unsupported. Marginalized mothers should have policies designed to explicitly support their needs.

Conclusion

This paper has presented an argument for the existence of the cult of motherhood and the sheer prevalence of its influence on our society. Motherhood is associated with deeply held beliefs and is deeply idealized; with women all around the world being pushed from birth to see motherhood as their natural path. The cult of motherhood has stood the test of time. It has unfortunately remained ingrained in our society even with the transition from maternalism to neo-liberalism. What this discussion has also pointed to is the disproportionate negative impact that the cult has placed on marginalized mothers. Marginalized mothers are faced with extreme systemic barriers that other, more privileged, mothers are not. The welfare

state is highly responsible for the perpetuation of these systemic barriers in their inadequate policy implementation. To effectively support mothers, the welfare state needs to take immediate action. Governments around the world must work towards abandoning the cult of motherhood by acting in manners that are proportionate to the real-life struggle’s mothers face.

References

Blum, Sonja, and Johanna Kuhlmann. “Understanding the ‘Welfare State’ in the Context of Austerity and Populism.” In Handbook on Austerity, Populism, and the Welfare State, eds. Greve, Brent, 81-93. Edward Elgar Publishing Limited, 2021. https://ebookcentral-proquest-com.proxy.queensu.ca/lib/queen-ebooks/detail. action?docID=6631141.

Campbell, Mhairi, et al. “Lone Parents, Health, Wellbeing and Welfare to Work: A Systemic Review of Qualitative Studies.” BMC Public Health 16, no. 188 (2016). https://bmcpublichealth.biomedcentral.com/ articles/10.1186/s12889-016-2880-9

Crane, Cheryl, and Karen Christopher. “Parenting Like a White Person”: Race and Maternal Support Among Marginalized Mothers.” In Marginalized Mothers, Mothering from the Margins, eds. Taylor, Tiffany and Katrina Bloch, 177-193. Advances in Gender Research, 2018. https://doi.org/10.1108/ S1529-2126201825

Farnsworth, Kevin, and Zoë Irving. “What is Austerity?” In Handbook on Austerity, Populism, and the Welfare State, eds. Greve, Brent, 11-24. Edward Elgar Publishing Limited, 2021. https://ebookcentral-proquest-com.proxy.queensu.ca/lib/queen-ebooks/detail. action?docID=6631141.

“Best practices in equity, diversity and inclusion in research practice and design.” Government of Canada, July 7, 2023. https://www.sshrc-crsh.gc.ca/ funding-financement/nfrf-fnfr/edi-eng.aspx

Heltzel, Anne. “Motherhood is a Cult.” Crime Reads, May 18, 2022. https://crimereads.com/motherhood-isa-cult/

Knotz, Carlo, et al. “A Recast Framework for Welfare Deservingness Perceptions. Social Indicators Research,” Springer Link, 159, (2021): 927-943. https:// doi.org/10.1007/s11205-021-02774-9

Krull, Catherine, and Justyna Sempruch. “A Life in Balance?: Reopening the Family-Work Debate.” UBC Press, (2011): 205-216. https:// books.scholarsportal.info/uri/ebooks/ebooks3/upress/20130825/1/9780774819695

Mosher, Janet. “Walking on Eggshells: Abused Women’s Experiences of Ontario’s Welfare System.” Osgoode Hall Law School, (2004). https://digitalcommons.osgoode.yorku.ca/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?referer=&httpsredir=1&article=1159&context=reports

Race, Lynsey and Lorna Stefanick. “Mother-Child Programs in Prison: Disciplining the Unworthy Mother.” In Mothering Welfare: Depriving, Surviving, Thriving, eds. Levasseur, Karine, et al, 43-62. Demeter Press, 2020. https://www.jstor.org/stable/j. ctv16pn3d9.6

Ross, Lynda, and Shauna Wilton. ““Making American Great Again?” Neoliberal Politics, Poverty, and Women’s.” In Mothering Welfare: Depriving, Surviving, Thriving, eds. Levasseur, Karine, et al, 65-82. Demeter Press, 2020. https://www.jstor.org/stable/j. ctv16pn3d9.7

Taylor, Tiffany, and Katrina Bloch. “Introduction: Bringing Marginalized Mothers to the Center.” In Marginalized Mothers, Mothering from the Margins, eds. Taylor, Tiffany and Katrina Bloch, 1-7. Advances in Gender Research, 2018. https://doi.org/10.1108/ S1529-2126201825

Williamson, Tricia, et al. “Mothering Ideology: A Quantitative Exploration of Mothers’ Perceptions of Navigating Motherhood Pressures and Partner Relationships.” Sex Roles, 88(1-2), (2023): 101-117. https://doi.org/10.1007/s11199022-01345-7

About the Author

Marisa Fitzgerald (she/her) is a fourth year Political Studies Major and Mathematics Minor. Her research interests are: Gender Politics and Comparative Politics

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