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Normal Life: Administrative Violence, Critical Trans Politics and the Limits of Law
Wait—what’s wrong with rights?
Much of the legal advocacy for trans and gender nonconforming people in the US has reflected the civil rights and "equality" strategies of mainstream gay and lesbian organizations—agitating for legal reforms that would ostensibly guarantee equal access, nondiscrimination, and equal protection under the law. This approach assumes that the state and its legal, policing, and social services apparatus—even its policies and documents of belonging and non-belonging—are neutral and benevolent. While we all have to comply with the gender binaries set forth by regulatory bodies of law and administration, many trans people, especially the most marginalized, are even more at risk for poverty, violence, and premature death by virtue of those same "neutral" legal structures.
Normal Life: Administrative Violence, Critical Trans Politics, and the Limits of Law raises revelatory critiques of the current strategies pivoting solely on a "legal rights framework," but also points to examples of an organized grassroots trans movement that is demanding the most essential of legal reforms in addition to making more comprehensive interventions into dangerous systems of repression—and the administrative violence that ultimately determines our life chances. Setting forth a politic that goes beyond the quest for mere legal inclusion, Normal Life is an urgent call for justice and trans liberation, and the radical transformations it will require.
An attorney, educator, and trans activist, Dean Spade has taught classes on sexual orientation, gender identity, poverty and law at the City University of New York (CUNY), Seattle University, Columbia University, and Harvard. In 2002 he founded the Sylvia Rivera Law Project, a collective that provides free legal services and works to build trans resistance rooted in racial and economic justice.
Much of the legal advocacy for trans and gender nonconforming people in the US has reflected the civil rights and "equality" strategies of mainstream gay and lesbian organizations—agitating for legal reforms that would ostensibly guarantee equal access, nondiscrimination, and equal protection under the law. This approach assumes that the state and its legal, policing, and social services apparatus—even its policies and documents of belonging and non-belonging—are neutral and benevolent. While we all have to comply with the gender binaries set forth by regulatory bodies of law and administration, many trans people, especially the most marginalized, are even more at risk for poverty, violence, and premature death by virtue of those same "neutral" legal structures.
Normal Life: Administrative Violence, Critical Trans Politics, and the Limits of Law raises revelatory critiques of the current strategies pivoting solely on a "legal rights framework," but also points to examples of an organized grassroots trans movement that is demanding the most essential of legal reforms in addition to making more comprehensive interventions into dangerous systems of repression—and the administrative violence that ultimately determines our life chances. Setting forth a politic that goes beyond the quest for mere legal inclusion, Normal Life is an urgent call for justice and trans liberation, and the radical transformations it will require.
An attorney, educator, and trans activist, Dean Spade has taught classes on sexual orientation, gender identity, poverty and law at the City University of New York (CUNY), Seattle University, Columbia University, and Harvard. In 2002 he founded the Sylvia Rivera Law Project, a collective that provides free legal services and works to build trans resistance rooted in racial and economic justice.
248 pages, Paperback
First published November 1, 2011
About the author
Dean Spade
24 books484 followersDean Spade is an Associate Professor at Seattle University School of Law. He teaches Administrative Law, Poverty Law, and Law and Social Movements. Prior to joining the faculty of Seattle University, Dean was a Williams Institute Law Teaching Fellow at UCLA Law School and Harvard Law School, teaching classes related to sexual orientation and gender identity law and law and social movements.
In 2002, Dean founded the Sylvia Rivera Law Project, a non-profit law collective that provides free legal services to transgender, intersex and gender non-conforming people who are low-income and/or people of color. SRLP also engages in litigation, policy reform and public education on issues affecting these communities and operates on a collective governance model, prioritizing the governance and leadership of trans, intersex, and gender non-conforming people of color. While working at SRLP, Dean taught classes focusing on sexual orientation, gender identity and law at Columbia and Harvard Law Schools.
From 1998-2006, Dean co-edited the paper and online zine, Make. Dean is currently the co-editor of the online journal, Enough, which focuses on the personal politics of wealth redistribution.
Dean is currently a fellow in the “Engaging Tradition” project at Columbia Law School. His book, Normal Life: Administrative Violence, Critical Trans Politics and the Limits of Law was published in 2011.
In 2002, Dean founded the Sylvia Rivera Law Project, a non-profit law collective that provides free legal services to transgender, intersex and gender non-conforming people who are low-income and/or people of color. SRLP also engages in litigation, policy reform and public education on issues affecting these communities and operates on a collective governance model, prioritizing the governance and leadership of trans, intersex, and gender non-conforming people of color. While working at SRLP, Dean taught classes focusing on sexual orientation, gender identity and law at Columbia and Harvard Law Schools.
From 1998-2006, Dean co-edited the paper and online zine, Make. Dean is currently the co-editor of the online journal, Enough, which focuses on the personal politics of wealth redistribution.
Dean is currently a fellow in the “Engaging Tradition” project at Columbia Law School. His book, Normal Life: Administrative Violence, Critical Trans Politics and the Limits of Law was published in 2011.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 95 reviews
October 28, 2011
i havent read it all but i started getting frustrated with dean spade, like i respect his work and ideas, but it jsut kinda reads to me like a white man re-explaining what women of colour, especially trans women of colour, and trans sex workers have been saying for like a billion years, but now he is saying it and its all revolutionary. And while he does credit these communities frequently i dunno i just cbf reading it all...but its probably a good introduction to these politics and explains basic ideas around why gay marriage doesn't solve everything, problems with prisons and criminalizing things and issues of class and race and trans* issues being ignored within the gay movement.
April 27, 2013
This book is an excellent summary of critical trans politics -- if you ignore the fact that Spade seems unable to utter the words "trans woman" throughout the book, leaving us to assume that all trans people face the same kinds and intensity of oppression. While there's nothing new here, it's a pretty good summary overall.
October 17, 2012
three stars for quality, four for value. (would be five, but my main quibble - see below - feels too significant to warrant inflating the rating that far.)
very clear and articulate without getting too bogged down in academic contortionism - though i say this speaking as someone fluent in academic, so others might disagree. (but there's no doubt that some of his earlier essays veer quite close to impenetrability.)
there was a good deal of preaching to the choir in this reading experience because i was already starting from a radical place, yet it still seemed like he does a fine job of getting to the heart of the important issues and walking the reader through why they're important, their impacts, etc., but this book does sometimes beg the question of what to do. (e.g. yes, the prison industry is a terrible thing, and x reform would be great, but in the meantime what do we do about the people already inside? it can be hard to help them without contributing one way or another to the industry's legitimacy.) in fairness there aren't easy, one-chapter answer to these questions, but the lack of suggestions does make for a rather unsatisfying finish.
very clear and articulate without getting too bogged down in academic contortionism - though i say this speaking as someone fluent in academic, so others might disagree. (but there's no doubt that some of his earlier essays veer quite close to impenetrability.)
there was a good deal of preaching to the choir in this reading experience because i was already starting from a radical place, yet it still seemed like he does a fine job of getting to the heart of the important issues and walking the reader through why they're important, their impacts, etc., but this book does sometimes beg the question of what to do. (e.g. yes, the prison industry is a terrible thing, and x reform would be great, but in the meantime what do we do about the people already inside? it can be hard to help them without contributing one way or another to the industry's legitimacy.) in fairness there aren't easy, one-chapter answer to these questions, but the lack of suggestions does make for a rather unsatisfying finish.
May 29, 2025
I’ve read this twice now, a few years apart. I loved it a lot both times. It’s a very sharp, concise critique of how violence operates under the guise of neutrality. Rather than focusing on dramatic instances of transphobia or legal failure, Spade turns attention to the bureaucratic and administrative mechanisms that quietly determine who is recognised, who is protected, and who is made vulnerable by state systems.
His concept of “administrative violence” pinpoints the ways that welfare, immigration, policing, and healthcare systems produce harm not through overt hatred, but through paperwork, eligibility requirements, and institutional procedures. These processes aren’t broken; they function precisely to exclude.
Categories we treat as natural or descriptive, like “gender,” “discrimination,” or even “transgender” are themselves shaped by the logics of state recognition and control. They govern what kinds of lives are made intelligible, and what kinds of suffering are made legible. Spade discusses not just what harms exist from this, but how our frameworks for recognising harm might actually sustain it.
Reading this as a trans person living in Japan, I couldn’t help but think of the country’s gender recognition system. To legally change your gender here, you’re still required to undergo full sterilisation and genital surgery, a policy that has been widely criticised by human rights groups, but remains in place. These requirements aren’t described as acts of violence or discrimination. They’re framed as technical criteria-
neutral steps in an administrative process.
There’s no law banning you from being trans, so on paper, Japan can appear tolerant. But in reality, the legal and medical system imposes strict, invasive conditions that only a small number of people can actually meet. If you can’t, or don’t want to, undergo surgery, you remain legally misgendered.
This creates the illusion of choice. You have the technical freedom to “transgender,” and because of that, the immense physical, emotional, and financial costs involved are treated as personal burdens rather than systemic barriers. The state, by offering a narrow, conditional path, presents trans people as having been dealt with.
So this book sort of helped me to connect this to a broader critique of how institutions classify, contain, and regulate marginalised populations. It reminded me of Foucault’s theory of biopolitics, the way modern states exercise power not just through law, but by managing life itself. Through mechanisms like documentation, surveillance, healthcare, and legal categorisation, institutions produce categories of identity that decide who is recognised, who is protected, and who is excluded. Spade shows how trans people are often forced into harmful visibility, made legible only on the state’s terms, and only through compliance with rigid medical or legal standards.
Although this book was written in 2011, during a time when public attitudes toward trans people in the West seemed to be improving, it now feels even more relevant. Recent developments in the UK where trans rights are being restricted under the language of neutrality, fairness, or safeguarding constantly came into my mind while reading Spade’s arguments. I’ve been thinking about this a lot recently in general, especially living in a relatively conservative area where these shifts are not just abstract policy changes, but things that shape how people talk, behave, and perceive you day to day. The government insists that new policies and guidelines surrounding trans people and our healthcare is not “rolling back” any rights or freedoms. But if this is so, why do so many of us feel more unsafe today than we did only two years ago?
Gender recognition reform has stalled in England and Wales, despite earlier promises to make it more accessible and efficient. Scotland passed a self-ID bill that was then blocked completely by Westminster (the first time that’s ever happened). The Cass Review, published in 2024, is now heavily influencing UK policy on trans healthcare. While it presents itself as cautious, it has been widely criticised, including by medical professionals, for linking trans identity to autism and mental health (it’s pathologising). Even though the review avoids saying trans identity is caused by these factors, its framing very obviously fuels doubt and delays care and creates an unfair bias by doctors wards trans people. In 2025, the Equality and Human Rights Commission, the very body tasked with protecting human rights, formally supported redefining “sex” in the Equality Act to mean “biological sex.” Trans women can now be lawfully excluded from women’s spaces and services. Trans men, depending on context, may be required to use women’s facilities, but may also be excluded from them on the basis that they are not women (both at the same time). Non-binary people are entirely unrecognised under this framework. The result is a legal landscape in which trans people are left more vulnerable, more policed, and more uncertain about where they are permitted to exist safely.
All of this has happened under the banner of “balance” and “reasonable debate.” But as Spade argues, legal and bureaucratic mechanisms don’t need to look violent to produce harm. They often rely on paperwork, policy language, or procedural delays to deny people access to care or recognition. Our rights are increasingly discussed as if they are in conflict with others’, rather than as part of a shared struggle for justice. Spade’s analysis of administrative violence feels painfully accurate here. These are not just oversights or failures, but deliberate, strategic shifts in how the state defines who gets to live a recognisable, supported life.
Some parts of the book are more interventionist than analytical, and the style leans activist. That isn’t a criticism, but it does make the book more urgent than polished. Still, its impact lies precisely in how it refuses to separate “policy” from power, or “reform” from governance. It doesn’t ask what a better system might look like. It asks who the system has ever been designed to serve.
Not a neutral book, and not trying to be. But essential if you’re interested in how structural violence hides in plain sight.
His concept of “administrative violence” pinpoints the ways that welfare, immigration, policing, and healthcare systems produce harm not through overt hatred, but through paperwork, eligibility requirements, and institutional procedures. These processes aren’t broken; they function precisely to exclude.
Categories we treat as natural or descriptive, like “gender,” “discrimination,” or even “transgender” are themselves shaped by the logics of state recognition and control. They govern what kinds of lives are made intelligible, and what kinds of suffering are made legible. Spade discusses not just what harms exist from this, but how our frameworks for recognising harm might actually sustain it.
Reading this as a trans person living in Japan, I couldn’t help but think of the country’s gender recognition system. To legally change your gender here, you’re still required to undergo full sterilisation and genital surgery, a policy that has been widely criticised by human rights groups, but remains in place. These requirements aren’t described as acts of violence or discrimination. They’re framed as technical criteria-
neutral steps in an administrative process.
There’s no law banning you from being trans, so on paper, Japan can appear tolerant. But in reality, the legal and medical system imposes strict, invasive conditions that only a small number of people can actually meet. If you can’t, or don’t want to, undergo surgery, you remain legally misgendered.
This creates the illusion of choice. You have the technical freedom to “transgender,” and because of that, the immense physical, emotional, and financial costs involved are treated as personal burdens rather than systemic barriers. The state, by offering a narrow, conditional path, presents trans people as having been dealt with.
So this book sort of helped me to connect this to a broader critique of how institutions classify, contain, and regulate marginalised populations. It reminded me of Foucault’s theory of biopolitics, the way modern states exercise power not just through law, but by managing life itself. Through mechanisms like documentation, surveillance, healthcare, and legal categorisation, institutions produce categories of identity that decide who is recognised, who is protected, and who is excluded. Spade shows how trans people are often forced into harmful visibility, made legible only on the state’s terms, and only through compliance with rigid medical or legal standards.
Although this book was written in 2011, during a time when public attitudes toward trans people in the West seemed to be improving, it now feels even more relevant. Recent developments in the UK where trans rights are being restricted under the language of neutrality, fairness, or safeguarding constantly came into my mind while reading Spade’s arguments. I’ve been thinking about this a lot recently in general, especially living in a relatively conservative area where these shifts are not just abstract policy changes, but things that shape how people talk, behave, and perceive you day to day. The government insists that new policies and guidelines surrounding trans people and our healthcare is not “rolling back” any rights or freedoms. But if this is so, why do so many of us feel more unsafe today than we did only two years ago?
Gender recognition reform has stalled in England and Wales, despite earlier promises to make it more accessible and efficient. Scotland passed a self-ID bill that was then blocked completely by Westminster (the first time that’s ever happened). The Cass Review, published in 2024, is now heavily influencing UK policy on trans healthcare. While it presents itself as cautious, it has been widely criticised, including by medical professionals, for linking trans identity to autism and mental health (it’s pathologising). Even though the review avoids saying trans identity is caused by these factors, its framing very obviously fuels doubt and delays care and creates an unfair bias by doctors wards trans people. In 2025, the Equality and Human Rights Commission, the very body tasked with protecting human rights, formally supported redefining “sex” in the Equality Act to mean “biological sex.” Trans women can now be lawfully excluded from women’s spaces and services. Trans men, depending on context, may be required to use women’s facilities, but may also be excluded from them on the basis that they are not women (both at the same time). Non-binary people are entirely unrecognised under this framework. The result is a legal landscape in which trans people are left more vulnerable, more policed, and more uncertain about where they are permitted to exist safely.
All of this has happened under the banner of “balance” and “reasonable debate.” But as Spade argues, legal and bureaucratic mechanisms don’t need to look violent to produce harm. They often rely on paperwork, policy language, or procedural delays to deny people access to care or recognition. Our rights are increasingly discussed as if they are in conflict with others’, rather than as part of a shared struggle for justice. Spade’s analysis of administrative violence feels painfully accurate here. These are not just oversights or failures, but deliberate, strategic shifts in how the state defines who gets to live a recognisable, supported life.
Some parts of the book are more interventionist than analytical, and the style leans activist. That isn’t a criticism, but it does make the book more urgent than polished. Still, its impact lies precisely in how it refuses to separate “policy” from power, or “reform” from governance. It doesn’t ask what a better system might look like. It asks who the system has ever been designed to serve.
Not a neutral book, and not trying to be. But essential if you’re interested in how structural violence hides in plain sight.
I wrote this about a certain portion of the book [although I adapted it a bit to be slightly more general-idea relevant]. There’s more things covered I haven't written about in this review
October 5, 2018
Read this for class. A little difficult read, but it made some really good points about how society and particularly non-profit groups need to re-evaluate how we should achieve equity and equality. First by focusing less on just symbolic inclusion policies, and by making sure that the most affected are included in any and all processes.
February 17, 2025
When I read the first chapter of this book in law school, it blew my mind. This book is kind of an abolitionist analysis on the law, with a focus on trans issues. The issue as I re-read it now is that it really tries to take on a lot, and feels little bit disorganized. The first chapter sets out the neoliberalism landscape: the vast inequalities of society and how they are related, emerging nonprofits, suppression of activism, and a very brief history on how we got here. I love the chart in this chapter - showing how in queer movements, marriage is a solution only for the most privileged for many different social problems, and how abolitionist solutions tackle the root of the issues. The second chapter describes what's wrong with anti-discrimination laws and hate crime laws as a solution to inequality: the inaccessibility of these legal resources, both in the requirements and to actually get legal counsel, and propagating the criminal justice system. It also creates a false understanding of how oppression works - a perpetrator model. The third chapter describes two more models for how oppression works - the "disciplinary" mode of power, where norms are forced onto people, and "population-management" mode of power, which my understanding was generational inequalities/history and policies coming together to create inequalities.
The fourth chapter felt very out of place. It talked about the surveillance of administrative law, and used a case study of how trans people's gender classification problems are concentrated in three general realms: identity documentation, sex segregated facilities, and access to health care.
The fifth chapter described how to build community power, including the four pillars of social justice infrastructure, and contrasting that with the rise of nonprofits / the nonprofit industrial complex. It also states a few roles lawyers can have in movements.
The conclusion describes a few organizations that are models of the type of power building Dean Spade describes. The Afterword applies the analysis to modern issues, including Palestine and Immigration.
In reading this, I really was wondering who was the target audience for this book and what Dean Spade wanted the takeaway to be. Was it for people who are trying to build ethical grassroots movements / nonprofits? Was it for law students like me who were trying to understand their role in the movement? Was it to radicalize liberals into leftists? The answer is probably all the above, but I don't think I currently fit into any of those categories right now, and so had a bit less to take away from this.
I think this book was quite dense for everything that it covered (a lot of reference to theory and Foucault), and it pairs really well with his book Mutual Aid, which describes how to build power in your community. It better describes the "what to do next" part that I feel this book is missing - especially for non-legal solutions. Personally, I don't think the solution is always just to join an existing movement. Some are good, but some have internal issues. That's why I feel Mutual Aid does a good job of describing how to build your own thing. It's also much more accessibly written, from what I remember.
Overall this book was a good reminder of abolitionist analysis and theory, and I wanted to have it under my belt in beginning his new book.
The fourth chapter felt very out of place. It talked about the surveillance of administrative law, and used a case study of how trans people's gender classification problems are concentrated in three general realms: identity documentation, sex segregated facilities, and access to health care.
The fifth chapter described how to build community power, including the four pillars of social justice infrastructure, and contrasting that with the rise of nonprofits / the nonprofit industrial complex. It also states a few roles lawyers can have in movements.
The conclusion describes a few organizations that are models of the type of power building Dean Spade describes. The Afterword applies the analysis to modern issues, including Palestine and Immigration.
In reading this, I really was wondering who was the target audience for this book and what Dean Spade wanted the takeaway to be. Was it for people who are trying to build ethical grassroots movements / nonprofits? Was it for law students like me who were trying to understand their role in the movement? Was it to radicalize liberals into leftists? The answer is probably all the above, but I don't think I currently fit into any of those categories right now, and so had a bit less to take away from this.
I think this book was quite dense for everything that it covered (a lot of reference to theory and Foucault), and it pairs really well with his book Mutual Aid, which describes how to build power in your community. It better describes the "what to do next" part that I feel this book is missing - especially for non-legal solutions. Personally, I don't think the solution is always just to join an existing movement. Some are good, but some have internal issues. That's why I feel Mutual Aid does a good job of describing how to build your own thing. It's also much more accessibly written, from what I remember.
Overall this book was a good reminder of abolitionist analysis and theory, and I wanted to have it under my belt in beginning his new book.
Read
January 29, 2023Certainly useful and “canonical”, but also REALLY shows its age.
March 7, 2017
I love the ideas. I hate the sentences.
Spade is the founder of the Sylvia Rivera Law Project (named after the trans woman of color who was instrumental in the Stonewall Riots and founded Gay Liberation Front, Gay Activist Alliance, and Street Transvestite Action Revolutionaries). Here's how Spade differentiates their vision of critical trans resistance from mainstream, reformist LGBT groups:
-Reform groups focus on legislation or winning a court case; Critical trans resistance groups use laws as part of a larger project to build grassroots power in affected communities.
-Reform groups try to criminalize discrimination; radical groups don't want to give any more power to the prison-industrial complex.
-Reform groups try to get healthcare through marriage equality (so spouses of privileged people can get benefits); radical groups fight for universal health care and trans medical coverage through medicare/medicaid.
-Reform groups repeal don't-ask-don't-care; radical groups fight to end sexist, racist, imperialist military actions.
-Reform groups try to protect families from deportation through marriage equality (so spouses of citizens can more easily get residency); radical groups fight deportation regimes.
The theory that Spade sets out is really exciting to me: it promotes grassroots power and it connects with a lot of anti-racist, feminist, anti-capitalist work. And it feels really timely, with all the bathroom bills happening, as Spade identifies gender segregation of public space as a main target for critical trans resistance.
But the writing style was a challenge for me. Long and awful sentences; inaccessible jargon; repetitions of arguments. It wouldn't annoy me so much if I didn't think the ideas being presented were really important.
But this summary is good:
Spade is the founder of the Sylvia Rivera Law Project (named after the trans woman of color who was instrumental in the Stonewall Riots and founded Gay Liberation Front, Gay Activist Alliance, and Street Transvestite Action Revolutionaries). Here's how Spade differentiates their vision of critical trans resistance from mainstream, reformist LGBT groups:
-Reform groups focus on legislation or winning a court case; Critical trans resistance groups use laws as part of a larger project to build grassroots power in affected communities.
-Reform groups try to criminalize discrimination; radical groups don't want to give any more power to the prison-industrial complex.
-Reform groups try to get healthcare through marriage equality (so spouses of privileged people can get benefits); radical groups fight for universal health care and trans medical coverage through medicare/medicaid.
-Reform groups repeal don't-ask-don't-care; radical groups fight to end sexist, racist, imperialist military actions.
-Reform groups try to protect families from deportation through marriage equality (so spouses of citizens can more easily get residency); radical groups fight deportation regimes.
The theory that Spade sets out is really exciting to me: it promotes grassroots power and it connects with a lot of anti-racist, feminist, anti-capitalist work. And it feels really timely, with all the bathroom bills happening, as Spade identifies gender segregation of public space as a main target for critical trans resistance.
But the writing style was a challenge for me. Long and awful sentences; inaccessible jargon; repetitions of arguments. It wouldn't annoy me so much if I didn't think the ideas being presented were really important.
But this summary is good:
Trans people are told by the law, state agencies, private discriminators, and our families that we are impossible people who cannot exist, cannot be seen, cannot be classified, and cannot fit anywhere. We are told by the better-funded lesbian and gay rights groups, as they continually leave us aside, that we are not politically viable; our lives are not a political possibility that can be conceived. Inside this impossibility, I argue, lies our specific political potential — a potential to formulate demands and strategies to meet those demands that exceed the containment of neoliberal politics. A critical trans politics is emerging that refuses empty promises of “equal opportunity” and “safety” underwritten by settler colonialism, racist, sexist, classist, ableist, and xenophobic imprisonment, and ever-growing wealth disparity.
June 24, 2020
As someone that is always having internal conflicts and conversations within my own brain around the role of voting, reform, etc. I appreciated how Spade articulated that taking legal routes have a time and place, but should not be a hill to die on in pursuit of liberation. I thought his critiques of traditional gay and lesbian politics and platform goals we’re incredibly valid and had me reckoning with my own analysis of gay marriage, health care, and privilege.
All of his intense critiques of nonprofits left me with *so much* new insight into how they function, what they are/can accomplish, and how they can become an institution of change rather than one that perpetuates oppressive cycles. Specifically loved reading about and applying the four pillars concept he alluded to.
All of his intense critiques of nonprofits left me with *so much* new insight into how they function, what they are/can accomplish, and how they can become an institution of change rather than one that perpetuates oppressive cycles. Specifically loved reading about and applying the four pillars concept he alluded to.
September 25, 2024
Boy oh boy is this bitch DENSE, no regrets reading it however
Second read made it even better, very applicable to the current political climate and brings up questions about what we should really be fighting for rn
Second read made it even better, very applicable to the current political climate and brings up questions about what we should really be fighting for rn
December 18, 2024
Ok finally closing the loop on a bunch of theory I've left unread. This book is amazing. I love that I found it now, but would be a great entry point for a lot of people. Also a good inflection point. It's just a good book.
I think the analyses of why rights aren't necessarily the best strategy AND the critique of how inclusion/diversity often fund/validates/legitimizes the institution that are causing the violence in the first place (and that funding isn't even used for DEI, brackting that the DEIing industrial complexes isn't doing what you think it is, says Spade) are excellent. This is the strongest part of the book (also the bulk of the book) and a lot of good concrete idea and examples.
The end kinda fell off for me a bit. It was still good, kinda, but got caught up in a lot of generalities -- "minoritized people should be trained as leaders" Yes! But what does that mean? What does that entail? How does that happen? Spade doesn't answer these questions and at points it feels like he has not been as involved in organizing. Movements, organizing are def a lot about empowerment and traing and etc. etc. but there are this also so many small, specific details about why things work or not. Those details, an analysis and consciousness of them, are missing here. (I'm reminded of Jane McAlevey's Raising Expectations and Raising Hell which is v good at talking/writing about this, but McAlevey is an organizer by trade; Spade is an academic and lawyer by trade.) Also, the book is so good at dissecting and refusing identity politics by and large, but this end part seems to pull in identity politics a bit. "Just train and empower all minoritized people and let them lead" ... yes and it has to be more complicated that that. As evidenced (to pick low hanging fruit) of all the far-right trans terfs, having identity or having material experience =/= good opinions or being an effective organizer. Material experiences are crucial to all of this, and also there has to be something else.
Also thinking of McAlevey again -- McAlevey is dead set on winning, and being effective. And Raising Expectations and Raising Hell gives examples of how she successfully did that. There is a critique of McAlevey (she's in a specific labor context, she's working inside a specific system) but also I think she's get it - that part of Raising Hell where she talks about winning a contract (short-term) but also angeling towards alternatives to grievances (long-term, worker power based and radical). Spade... well Spade is team "long term plan" & "process over results" but... I'm just not sure here. I'm thinking about "we lose and we lose and we lose until we win," but I think Spade's thinking is ultimately flawed. And/or he needs to rethink what constitutes success. Putting on Transforming Justice - success. Case study, as McAlevey, as a way to think how to do it again. how did success differ than it falling apart. Passing some lang in NY human services (even if watered down) - success. How did that work (even if it could be better)? I think, again, Spade just isn't an organizer here. There is, as McAlevey says, a difference between a radical educator and a radical organizer. I think Spade is the former, and I think it shows in the relative weakness of the last section of the book and the afterword.
Also the talk about BLM (in revised edition) as BLM is happening makes this keyed to such a specific moment in time. Pre national-flop, local-slay.
Oh and also (sorry to say so much critique but the book is v good adn the good parts are just good - read them) the afterword is so odd. Not b/c BLM but b/c pinkwashing. 1) cite Puar (I forget who he cited but it wasn't Puar and Puar was no where in the main text) 2) I don't think Pinkwashing and what Spade are talking about is the same thing? Like complementary and perhaps co-constructive, for sure, but like the nation image of pinkwashing (I'm vaguely remembering it) feels diff to me than the v specific DEI/rights/law/funding critique that Spade has put together so well. I wanted more specificity here in the afterword, just like in the final chapter.
Ok I'm done. This book was amazing.
I think the analyses of why rights aren't necessarily the best strategy AND the critique of how inclusion/diversity often fund/validates/legitimizes the institution that are causing the violence in the first place (and that funding isn't even used for DEI, brackting that the DEIing industrial complexes isn't doing what you think it is, says Spade) are excellent. This is the strongest part of the book (also the bulk of the book) and a lot of good concrete idea and examples.
The end kinda fell off for me a bit. It was still good, kinda, but got caught up in a lot of generalities -- "minoritized people should be trained as leaders" Yes! But what does that mean? What does that entail? How does that happen? Spade doesn't answer these questions and at points it feels like he has not been as involved in organizing. Movements, organizing are def a lot about empowerment and traing and etc. etc. but there are this also so many small, specific details about why things work or not. Those details, an analysis and consciousness of them, are missing here. (I'm reminded of Jane McAlevey's Raising Expectations and Raising Hell which is v good at talking/writing about this, but McAlevey is an organizer by trade; Spade is an academic and lawyer by trade.) Also, the book is so good at dissecting and refusing identity politics by and large, but this end part seems to pull in identity politics a bit. "Just train and empower all minoritized people and let them lead" ... yes and it has to be more complicated that that. As evidenced (to pick low hanging fruit) of all the far-right trans terfs, having identity or having material experience =/= good opinions or being an effective organizer. Material experiences are crucial to all of this, and also there has to be something else.
Also thinking of McAlevey again -- McAlevey is dead set on winning, and being effective. And Raising Expectations and Raising Hell gives examples of how she successfully did that. There is a critique of McAlevey (she's in a specific labor context, she's working inside a specific system) but also I think she's get it - that part of Raising Hell where she talks about winning a contract (short-term) but also angeling towards alternatives to grievances (long-term, worker power based and radical). Spade... well Spade is team "long term plan" & "process over results" but... I'm just not sure here. I'm thinking about "we lose and we lose and we lose until we win," but I think Spade's thinking is ultimately flawed. And/or he needs to rethink what constitutes success. Putting on Transforming Justice - success. Case study, as McAlevey, as a way to think how to do it again. how did success differ than it falling apart. Passing some lang in NY human services (even if watered down) - success. How did that work (even if it could be better)? I think, again, Spade just isn't an organizer here. There is, as McAlevey says, a difference between a radical educator and a radical organizer. I think Spade is the former, and I think it shows in the relative weakness of the last section of the book and the afterword.
Also the talk about BLM (in revised edition) as BLM is happening makes this keyed to such a specific moment in time. Pre national-flop, local-slay.
Oh and also (sorry to say so much critique but the book is v good adn the good parts are just good - read them) the afterword is so odd. Not b/c BLM but b/c pinkwashing. 1) cite Puar (I forget who he cited but it wasn't Puar and Puar was no where in the main text) 2) I don't think Pinkwashing and what Spade are talking about is the same thing? Like complementary and perhaps co-constructive, for sure, but like the nation image of pinkwashing (I'm vaguely remembering it) feels diff to me than the v specific DEI/rights/law/funding critique that Spade has put together so well. I wanted more specificity here in the afterword, just like in the final chapter.
Ok I'm done. This book was amazing.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
February 19, 2025
I learned a lot from this book, it's probably one of the most important books I've ever read. And despite being from 2011 (and the newer edition coming out in 2015), it's still more relevant than ever. I would really recommend this book to anyone who's against the oppression of various marginalized groups.
April 13, 2018
A crash course in a future that could be. The book obviously isn't perfect, but I don't think Spade would even argue that. He lays out trans politics in a way that also highlights and emphasizes other marginalized voices, though, and for that I'm really grateful for this book.
August 29, 2018
A great foundation for intersectional queer and trans theory!
October 12, 2014
I read this book for a course on LGBT Politics and Activism my last year of college, and I regret not converting my rental to a purchase at the end of the semester. It's a great introduction to administrative violence, particularly as it pertains to trans and queer people and/or people of color. The focus of the book is trans politics, but -- and this is one of the overarching points of the book -- trans politics and race politics, as well as the politics of gender, sexuality, age, ability, and class, are all interconnected. What these marginalized groups share is the plight of systemic, institutionalized oppression that is often disguised as a means of improving, while instead perpetuating and worsening, poor social conditions.
Now, this isn't news. As a few other reviewers implied, this is something that trans and queer people and people of color have been saying for years. But if you're looking for a well-written, accessible crash course in administrative violence and trans, race, and queer politics, Spade's book serves as an excellent starting point.
I also want to add that while Spade speaks from a point of point of privilege (white, purportedly masculine-identified), he is also a trans person. Although the book offers no account of Spade's personal experiences, I liked knowing that, unlike much of the literature on trans, queer, and race politics, this book was written by someone who would be well-served by the 'abolition' of administrative violence. One might argue that a personal perspective might have enriched this book, and that may well be true. But I think the book is compelling enough that such would have been unnecessary.
The trouble with this book is that Spade's argument doesn't extend much farther than an explication of the facts: "Here's what administrative violence is, and these are its implications." I wished Spade had developed or complicated his argument a bit more. There wasn't much information in the way of how to move forward, or the best and most critical approaches to tackling administrative violence. If I remember correctly, this information was limited to one or two chapters, and I felt that there wasn't much evidence, empirical or otherwise, to support Spade's claims. And this may be because there isn't much research on trans politics. But again, that's why this book is a good starting point -- not the be-all, end-all.
Now, this isn't news. As a few other reviewers implied, this is something that trans and queer people and people of color have been saying for years. But if you're looking for a well-written, accessible crash course in administrative violence and trans, race, and queer politics, Spade's book serves as an excellent starting point.
I also want to add that while Spade speaks from a point of point of privilege (white, purportedly masculine-identified), he is also a trans person. Although the book offers no account of Spade's personal experiences, I liked knowing that, unlike much of the literature on trans, queer, and race politics, this book was written by someone who would be well-served by the 'abolition' of administrative violence. One might argue that a personal perspective might have enriched this book, and that may well be true. But I think the book is compelling enough that such would have been unnecessary.
The trouble with this book is that Spade's argument doesn't extend much farther than an explication of the facts: "Here's what administrative violence is, and these are its implications." I wished Spade had developed or complicated his argument a bit more. There wasn't much information in the way of how to move forward, or the best and most critical approaches to tackling administrative violence. If I remember correctly, this information was limited to one or two chapters, and I felt that there wasn't much evidence, empirical or otherwise, to support Spade's claims. And this may be because there isn't much research on trans politics. But again, that's why this book is a good starting point -- not the be-all, end-all.
January 30, 2021
I need to stop reading books described as preaching to the choir. I always find myself disappointed.
I generally appreciate a book filled with good citations, but in this case, it felt like it was almost all discussion of secondary citations and exceedingly little original discussion or insight. Also, the way not! defining neoliberalism was treated was super weird. If journalist Sarah Jaffe can provide a succinct definition in the intro of a popular press book, there's no reason an academic can't spend a few minutes bugging the many librarians he has access to for help navigating the political theory section of one of Seattle's many libraries. Also, much of the discussion of trans politics was buried in the back of chapter 4 and in the conclusion. (Which makes me wonder what this text could have been had DS's DUP editor encouraged him to restructure this to foreground trans specific experiences.)
Anyway, I don't know. I wanted to like it, and I did appreciate parts. But those parts were too intermittent for me to want to recommend this to people who want to go deeper into trans politics or social justice issues in general. For that, I mostly feel like I'd just rather read Angela Y. Davis or Keeanga-Yamahtta Taylor or Mia Mingus or...
I generally appreciate a book filled with good citations, but in this case, it felt like it was almost all discussion of secondary citations and exceedingly little original discussion or insight. Also, the way not! defining neoliberalism was treated was super weird. If journalist Sarah Jaffe can provide a succinct definition in the intro of a popular press book, there's no reason an academic can't spend a few minutes bugging the many librarians he has access to for help navigating the political theory section of one of Seattle's many libraries. Also, much of the discussion of trans politics was buried in the back of chapter 4 and in the conclusion. (Which makes me wonder what this text could have been had DS's DUP editor encouraged him to restructure this to foreground trans specific experiences.)
Anyway, I don't know. I wanted to like it, and I did appreciate parts. But those parts were too intermittent for me to want to recommend this to people who want to go deeper into trans politics or social justice issues in general. For that, I mostly feel like I'd just rather read Angela Y. Davis or Keeanga-Yamahtta Taylor or Mia Mingus or...
May 14, 2016
Good introductory text. A few points though:
1. How American anti-discrimination law works is not how anti-discrimination law has to work i.e. Canadian anti-discrimination law is explicitly based on a concept of substantive, not formal equality. This is not to imply that Canadian anti-discrimination law is perfect; in fact, the SCC keeps on having to change the s. 15 analysis in order to respond better to s. 15 claims, but I do think that it is possible to have meaningful anti-discrimination laws. If an academic can come to an appropriate conclusion re: discrimination based on a set of facts, so can the SCC. We shouldn't let the justice system off the hook.
2. I understand what Spade means when he says that striking down explicitly homophobic etc laws makes it easier for people to claim we have Achieved Equality, but I find the criticism he aims at prioritizing striking down those laws absurd. Those laws weren't just signposts proclaiming that the law's injustice; they had profoundly negative effects on the lives of lgbt people and needed to go. Formal equality is not everything, but it's not nothing.
3. Prison abolitionism is all very well and good in theory but if you're not going to talk about what you plan to do with people convicted of violent crimes, hmm tbh. Spade does engage in that a bit at the end, but he doesn't really go into it and the pitfalls of community-based restorative justice approaches.
1. How American anti-discrimination law works is not how anti-discrimination law has to work i.e. Canadian anti-discrimination law is explicitly based on a concept of substantive, not formal equality. This is not to imply that Canadian anti-discrimination law is perfect; in fact, the SCC keeps on having to change the s. 15 analysis in order to respond better to s. 15 claims, but I do think that it is possible to have meaningful anti-discrimination laws. If an academic can come to an appropriate conclusion re: discrimination based on a set of facts, so can the SCC. We shouldn't let the justice system off the hook.
2. I understand what Spade means when he says that striking down explicitly homophobic etc laws makes it easier for people to claim we have Achieved Equality, but I find the criticism he aims at prioritizing striking down those laws absurd. Those laws weren't just signposts proclaiming that the law's injustice; they had profoundly negative effects on the lives of lgbt people and needed to go. Formal equality is not everything, but it's not nothing.
3. Prison abolitionism is all very well and good in theory but if you're not going to talk about what you plan to do with people convicted of violent crimes, hmm tbh. Spade does engage in that a bit at the end, but he doesn't really go into it and the pitfalls of community-based restorative justice approaches.
September 2, 2013
Through succinct, effective writing, Spade offers an intersectional analysis on the problem with "equality" and why radical movement-building is key to dismantling systemic and structural oppression, in lieu of legal reforms rooted in law enforcement and nonprofitization, which only reinforce racialized-gendered social control and violence for people of color, indigenous people, immigrants, people with disabilities, poor people, and gender-nonconforming and trans people. By leveraging his white and class privilege, he echoes what women of color feminists and scholars have been stating and publishing for years, and makes a point to speak their names.
For folks moving through radical spaces, Spade may not seem to be saying much new here, but he does a great job of shaping his argument into a cohesive, digestible format that left-leaning audiences could appreciate.
For folks moving through radical spaces, Spade may not seem to be saying much new here, but he does a great job of shaping his argument into a cohesive, digestible format that left-leaning audiences could appreciate.
September 8, 2018
This book is a fantastic view of the neoliberalism and nonprofitization that plague the mainstream "LGBT" movement, as Spade critically examines the faults of arguments and movement work that are rooted in these problems. As he articulates three specific modes of power and how they work to control people and undermine liberation, Spade offers frameworks for how the trans movement can be intersectional, truly liberatory work that actually works to dismantle oppressive systems, rather than joining the ranks of who is privileged within these systems.
August 2, 2022
“The focus of legal education is working inside the existing legal system. Even the small part of legal education that addresses poor people’s struggles is concerned with narrow reforms and courtroom strategies, not supporting rent strikes or squatting or prison abolition or indigenous land struggles. Essentially, legal education is not about actually challenging the root causes of maldistribution”.
August 15, 2014
So good! An easy to read book which is a credit to Spade since a lot of the things he discusses are the same ones that many other authors make as dense as hell! I loved the combination of both theoretical arguments and on the ground practical stuff.
Read
October 5, 2015342.73087 S7327 2015
June 15, 2022
Generally, an excellent book, which makes a further trans specific case for a revolutionary, abolitionist politics already so convincingly espoused by such activists as Angela Davis and Ruth Wilson Gilmore.
I had a couple of minor disagreements. For example, while I agree that marriage is an inherently conservative institution and that its politics of assimilation certainly paved the way for LGBT military inclusion policies etc., I think that there is more nuance in marriage equality rising as a goal during the AIDS crisis, but I know that Spade has written about this elsewhere, so I will probably seek out his other work on the subject. I found it more odd that Spade seemed so set on portraying the repeal of anti-sodomy laws as unrevolutionary even though those laws presumably did actually help some people and would not necessarily have bolstered the racist and anti-LGBT prison industrial complex, which Spade otherwise lucidly demonstrates has been done by hate crime legislation.
In general, I will say that Spade draws an overly antagonistic line between what he calls 'gay and lesbian' activism and 'queer and trans' activism. He conceives of the former as conservative and sellout and the latter as revolutionary, even as he acknowledges that the equivalent mainstreaming of trans rights is only more visible, rather than influential among the majority of trans people, because the trans people with the most vested interests in otherwise conservative change have the most economic and political power to render visible the desire for those changes. Spade, apparently, is also broadly unaware of the neoliberalisation of identity politics among certain subsections of self-identified queer groups. All this to say that his differentiation should have been more visibly rooted in the capitulation of one side to capitalist/neoliberal concerns, rather than on the identity vectors gay and lesbian themselves, because it did feel a little patronising. Moreover, it was annoying when Spade described mainstream White gay and lesbian activists as concerned only with the one vector of oppression that affected them when the latter group, by definition, experience both homophobia and misogyny.
Also, I had a couple of stylistic disagreements: I don't think the use of the term suppression/subordination conveys anything that oppression doesn't, and I think that Latin@ is the worst of the gender neutral terms for Latin American, mostly because some screen readers struggle to comprehend it for visually-impaired people. There were a few typos, especially in the notes section, including an unfortunate instance of misgendering, but otherwise Spade's writing itself was very readable.
Overall, these criticisms are relatively minor and unconcerned with the actual thrust of Spade's revolutionary argument, which he expertly makes both a theoretical and practical case for, deliberately placing himself in a tradition of grassroots activism and abolitionist politics, using their examples as grounded activist roadmaps for his readers. While many of Spade's arguments have already been articulated, sometimes decades before, particularly by anti-racist activists, Spade himself never pretends that he isn't indebted to these thinkers and, in the context of activist writing, a reminder of these necessary theories, politics and practicalities can only be a good thing.
I had a couple of minor disagreements. For example, while I agree that marriage is an inherently conservative institution and that its politics of assimilation certainly paved the way for LGBT military inclusion policies etc., I think that there is more nuance in marriage equality rising as a goal during the AIDS crisis, but I know that Spade has written about this elsewhere, so I will probably seek out his other work on the subject. I found it more odd that Spade seemed so set on portraying the repeal of anti-sodomy laws as unrevolutionary even though those laws presumably did actually help some people and would not necessarily have bolstered the racist and anti-LGBT prison industrial complex, which Spade otherwise lucidly demonstrates has been done by hate crime legislation.
In general, I will say that Spade draws an overly antagonistic line between what he calls 'gay and lesbian' activism and 'queer and trans' activism. He conceives of the former as conservative and sellout and the latter as revolutionary, even as he acknowledges that the equivalent mainstreaming of trans rights is only more visible, rather than influential among the majority of trans people, because the trans people with the most vested interests in otherwise conservative change have the most economic and political power to render visible the desire for those changes. Spade, apparently, is also broadly unaware of the neoliberalisation of identity politics among certain subsections of self-identified queer groups. All this to say that his differentiation should have been more visibly rooted in the capitulation of one side to capitalist/neoliberal concerns, rather than on the identity vectors gay and lesbian themselves, because it did feel a little patronising. Moreover, it was annoying when Spade described mainstream White gay and lesbian activists as concerned only with the one vector of oppression that affected them when the latter group, by definition, experience both homophobia and misogyny.
Also, I had a couple of stylistic disagreements: I don't think the use of the term suppression/subordination conveys anything that oppression doesn't, and I think that Latin@ is the worst of the gender neutral terms for Latin American, mostly because some screen readers struggle to comprehend it for visually-impaired people. There were a few typos, especially in the notes section, including an unfortunate instance of misgendering, but otherwise Spade's writing itself was very readable.
Overall, these criticisms are relatively minor and unconcerned with the actual thrust of Spade's revolutionary argument, which he expertly makes both a theoretical and practical case for, deliberately placing himself in a tradition of grassroots activism and abolitionist politics, using their examples as grounded activist roadmaps for his readers. While many of Spade's arguments have already been articulated, sometimes decades before, particularly by anti-racist activists, Spade himself never pretends that he isn't indebted to these thinkers and, in the context of activist writing, a reminder of these necessary theories, politics and practicalities can only be a good thing.
February 7, 2025
The first few chapters were very repetitive but I get it, Spade was really trying to drill in his main point. Overall I really like how accessible this was to read and the fact that Spade offers tangible solutions to the problems he points out. That being said, his approach is very “black and white” / “all or nothing,” but the theories and reasonings behind his philosophy are extremely valid and well-articulated. Learned a lot about social justice, the shortcomings of past movements, and even about myself!
Here’s my journal entry for Ch. 5 “Something that I've been thinking about in the years since graduating college is that I feel guilty for shifting from a "tear down the system" mentality to a "let's fix the system mentality." I felt guilt because this seemed against everything I had learned, yet I couldn't help but fear that if we create a new system we would just create new inequalities. Spade summed it up perfectly: "We must remember that whenever we propose new systems of distribution and imagine a better world, we also - often unknowingly - establish disciplinary and population-management norms that marginalize and/or vilify." But, he follows it up with: "... process-oriented and relentlessly self-reflective practice must attend all of our work if we are to resist the dangers of new norms that we invariably produce." This kinda made things click for me, because something else I've been reflecting about is how little self-accountability the left and/or progressive movements have (especially since our post-election debrief last semester where we reflected on our own shortcomings). I've kind of gotten tired of people always pointing fingers and not thinking about what we did wrong or how we could do better. This quote helped me realize that these two thoughts/feelings are not only correlated but are, in a way, the solution. And the solution/alternative approach that Spade offers is "differential form" - in summary: resisting absolutism, being flexible, introspective, thoughtful, reflective, open to criticism, critical, and tactical in social justice approaches. While I think I now stand between tearing down some systems while fixing others, this framework allows for a "tear down and rebuild" mentality that is aware of the drawbacks that it may come with.”
Also, loved the segue from this book to learning about non-reformist reforms - which I want to look into more but suspect reflects my evolving sj philosophy
Here’s my journal entry for Ch. 5 “Something that I've been thinking about in the years since graduating college is that I feel guilty for shifting from a "tear down the system" mentality to a "let's fix the system mentality." I felt guilt because this seemed against everything I had learned, yet I couldn't help but fear that if we create a new system we would just create new inequalities. Spade summed it up perfectly: "We must remember that whenever we propose new systems of distribution and imagine a better world, we also - often unknowingly - establish disciplinary and population-management norms that marginalize and/or vilify." But, he follows it up with: "... process-oriented and relentlessly self-reflective practice must attend all of our work if we are to resist the dangers of new norms that we invariably produce." This kinda made things click for me, because something else I've been reflecting about is how little self-accountability the left and/or progressive movements have (especially since our post-election debrief last semester where we reflected on our own shortcomings). I've kind of gotten tired of people always pointing fingers and not thinking about what we did wrong or how we could do better. This quote helped me realize that these two thoughts/feelings are not only correlated but are, in a way, the solution. And the solution/alternative approach that Spade offers is "differential form" - in summary: resisting absolutism, being flexible, introspective, thoughtful, reflective, open to criticism, critical, and tactical in social justice approaches. While I think I now stand between tearing down some systems while fixing others, this framework allows for a "tear down and rebuild" mentality that is aware of the drawbacks that it may come with.”
Also, loved the segue from this book to learning about non-reformist reforms - which I want to look into more but suspect reflects my evolving sj philosophy
October 29, 2021
A provocative argument that is worth reading.
Its greatest blemish--and it is a large one--is how heavily its argument rests on an untheorized concept of "distribution of life chances". Absent a fuller description of what the author means by "life chances," one is left leaning on the vernacular meaning of the phrase, which puts it uncomfortable proximate to a neoliberal framing of the structural determinants of life outcomes as related in some way to "choice" or volition. Since that would contradict Spade's own well-formulated summaries and indictments of neoliberalism, it is clear that this is not his intended meaning. So either he should have found another phrase, or taken the time to explicate his chosen phrase better.
Another qualm I had with the book was that I found his arguments against advocacy for laws against discrimination on the basis of gender identity and/or expression to be weaker than other contentious arguments made. My skepticism toward this argument is based in part on my own experiences as a recently out trans person in a state that has adopted such a law (New York State's GENDA Act). Precisely because I agree with Spade that legal prohibitions against employment discrimination have little positive impact, particularly in the U.S. where the courts and the law are so heavily weighted in employers' favor (cf., at-will employment, the increasing rarity of private-sector unionization, as well as the facts that Spade documents well with reference to civil rights laws and CRT critiques thereof, e.g. the almost insurmountable burdens of proof imposed on plaintiffs making claims of discrimination), I am able to see, in my day-to-day work life, the small ways that the very existence of such a law creates new opportunities for trans survival and resistance. While Spade's general dictum that "we must stop believing that what the law says about itself is true and that what the law says about us is what matters" is an excellent guideline for any sort of critical theory of law, a corollary to it is that the law can have effects that go beyond the intentions, preferences, or interests of those charged with making or enforcing it. Sensitivity to those effects should factor into the consideration of any legal reform tactic within the broader mobilization strategies of social movements.
Its greatest blemish--and it is a large one--is how heavily its argument rests on an untheorized concept of "distribution of life chances". Absent a fuller description of what the author means by "life chances," one is left leaning on the vernacular meaning of the phrase, which puts it uncomfortable proximate to a neoliberal framing of the structural determinants of life outcomes as related in some way to "choice" or volition. Since that would contradict Spade's own well-formulated summaries and indictments of neoliberalism, it is clear that this is not his intended meaning. So either he should have found another phrase, or taken the time to explicate his chosen phrase better.
Another qualm I had with the book was that I found his arguments against advocacy for laws against discrimination on the basis of gender identity and/or expression to be weaker than other contentious arguments made. My skepticism toward this argument is based in part on my own experiences as a recently out trans person in a state that has adopted such a law (New York State's GENDA Act). Precisely because I agree with Spade that legal prohibitions against employment discrimination have little positive impact, particularly in the U.S. where the courts and the law are so heavily weighted in employers' favor (cf., at-will employment, the increasing rarity of private-sector unionization, as well as the facts that Spade documents well with reference to civil rights laws and CRT critiques thereof, e.g. the almost insurmountable burdens of proof imposed on plaintiffs making claims of discrimination), I am able to see, in my day-to-day work life, the small ways that the very existence of such a law creates new opportunities for trans survival and resistance. While Spade's general dictum that "we must stop believing that what the law says about itself is true and that what the law says about us is what matters" is an excellent guideline for any sort of critical theory of law, a corollary to it is that the law can have effects that go beyond the intentions, preferences, or interests of those charged with making or enforcing it. Sensitivity to those effects should factor into the consideration of any legal reform tactic within the broader mobilization strategies of social movements.
May 23, 2021
This book gives an intriguing overview of conflicting types of trans resistance in modern society. Given the recent outrage against trans rights, it will be very interesting to see how the capitalist, neoliberalist type of trans resistance plays out when funders dry up - if they dry up - as a result of the Republican focus on trans rights as a dividing issue. In this sense, Normal Life is a valuable backdrop to modern political situations that actively threaten the normal lives of trans people.
What I found unfortunate, however, is the sole focus on USA trans politics. The militarization of trans activism has a profound place in American trans rights activism, but not in many other places of the world. I understand that this is the world Prof. Spade is familiar with, but I find it deeply unfortunate that many of the detailed and elaborate case studies in the book only helped me understand the plight of trans people in the USA and not elsewhere.
Finally, the book was challenging to get through at times. Although densely packed with valuable information, I only found the explanation of the Pillars clear and helpful; many other case studies had been written in so much detail, and at times, the ongoing emphasis of intersectionality became repetitive. Although I agree with Prof. Spade that any trans rights activism needs to be intersectional, the type of intersectionality described here was only applicable to a relatively small group (PoC trans people of lesser financial means). Given the challenges faced by trans people with autism, it would have been valuable if the book had expanded its discussion of intersectionality with concrete examples of the intersections between ableism and transphobia.
What I found unfortunate, however, is the sole focus on USA trans politics. The militarization of trans activism has a profound place in American trans rights activism, but not in many other places of the world. I understand that this is the world Prof. Spade is familiar with, but I find it deeply unfortunate that many of the detailed and elaborate case studies in the book only helped me understand the plight of trans people in the USA and not elsewhere.
Finally, the book was challenging to get through at times. Although densely packed with valuable information, I only found the explanation of the Pillars clear and helpful; many other case studies had been written in so much detail, and at times, the ongoing emphasis of intersectionality became repetitive. Although I agree with Prof. Spade that any trans rights activism needs to be intersectional, the type of intersectionality described here was only applicable to a relatively small group (PoC trans people of lesser financial means). Given the challenges faced by trans people with autism, it would have been valuable if the book had expanded its discussion of intersectionality with concrete examples of the intersections between ableism and transphobia.
June 27, 2023
I deeply appreciated the arguments laid out in this book that center TGNC people in a space of resistance. I understand from other reviewers that these arguments aren't new, and perhaps Spade could give more credit to his sources. He does, however, emphasize that feminist communities of color have long held a tradition of resistance that precedes this text. For me, as somewhat of a newcomer to trans politics and also a recent public policy graduate, I found the text to be incredibly powerful, articulate, and convincing. Spade implicates fundamental institutions and beloved strategies as sites of violence, such as the fight for gay marriage that keeps intact the privileges reserved for married people. Given recent furors over anti-trans state laws, I can see the ways in which combating all of these specific (and devastating) laws can lock us into a narrow view of what victory truly entails. Spade calls for deeply-rooted, complex reforms that strike at the fundamental setup of US society. I am totally there and on board, but I also, like others, wonder how best to direct my energy in the meantime. Overall I strongly recommend this text to anyone with progressive values who currently devotes energy to rights politics.
November 13, 2023
Although this book was published back in 2011, it is more relevant than ever. Spade argues that it's a waste of resources to try and change anti-discrimination laws and create hate crime laws. The former because conservatives will always find a way around the laws, the latter because hate crime laws give money to police, who are the worst perpetrators of crimes against trans people.
Everything that Spade predicted in this book has come to pass. He also makes very good points about how there are too many privileged educated white lawyers that think they can help trans people without understanding that there are fundamental needs being ignored, like providing housing and ensuring safety.
The book ends with a critique of non-profit organizations and how they are more focused on grant writing and appeasing corporate sponsors than actually helping people. There's also plenty of examples of how non-profits can be organized to recognize better ways to help trans people and to avoid letting the lawyers take control to the detriment of the people the organizations are built to help.
The writing is succinct and even includes a comprehensible distillation of Foucault's arguments. I can't stop telling people about how profound this book is. You should read it immediately.
Everything that Spade predicted in this book has come to pass. He also makes very good points about how there are too many privileged educated white lawyers that think they can help trans people without understanding that there are fundamental needs being ignored, like providing housing and ensuring safety.
The book ends with a critique of non-profit organizations and how they are more focused on grant writing and appeasing corporate sponsors than actually helping people. There's also plenty of examples of how non-profits can be organized to recognize better ways to help trans people and to avoid letting the lawyers take control to the detriment of the people the organizations are built to help.
The writing is succinct and even includes a comprehensible distillation of Foucault's arguments. I can't stop telling people about how profound this book is. You should read it immediately.
March 17, 2024
I was hoping some things would be a bit more in-depth and other things a bit less academic, but this is a good crash course on how the “mainstream” trans movement (which focuses on things like marriage, inclusion in the military, hate crime laws) does not represent the interests of trans people as a whole and is actively harmful. I particularly like that this focuses on the struggles of the most vulnerable trans people (people who are low-income, undocumented, incarcerated, unhoused, welfare recipients, etc.) It’s incredibly frustrating how ignored these groups are in the “mainstream” trans movement, which similarly has little to nothing to say about the US government actively facilitating genocide in Gaza.
I particularly liked the Administering Gender chapter, which discussed the different ways that official gender classification catches trans people in dangerous crosshairs, such as the inaccessibility of getting ID’s corrected and how having incorrect ID’s can subject people to discrimination (and violence) in jobs, healthcare, social services, etc. I would’ve liked it if this could’ve gotten more detailed (ie. given more specific examples of things). I felt like a lot of the other chapters could've been largely condensed.
I particularly liked the Administering Gender chapter, which discussed the different ways that official gender classification catches trans people in dangerous crosshairs, such as the inaccessibility of getting ID’s corrected and how having incorrect ID’s can subject people to discrimination (and violence) in jobs, healthcare, social services, etc. I would’ve liked it if this could’ve gotten more detailed (ie. given more specific examples of things). I felt like a lot of the other chapters could've been largely condensed.
March 24, 2020
At first the idea was very exciting, especially for someone with a law background interested in works that question law's hegemony and necessity, but then it became VERY repetitive (there is a current affirmation of the goals of the book, and the conclusions that could be summarized in a couple of sentences are constantly reinforced). It is also not as innovative as the author portrays it. It is then not that theoretically interesting and on the other hand focuses too little on the practical innovative experiences of trans activists. Some seeds are planted but they don't grow here.
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