Abstract
The Feminist and the Sex Offender offers a critical feminist analysis of sexual harm and state violence with an unequivocal eye toward the abolition of the prison industrial complex (PIC). The book organizes representations of decades of activist and scholarly work into four sections, beginning with a historical synthesis of feminisms and feminist responses to sexual harm. The second section engages structural analyses to make visible the connections between interpersonal sexual harm and state violence. Specifically, the authors interrogate how carceral interventions cannot be and are not designed to be responsive to those harmed by sexual violence, particularly women of color and queer people, as well as how such interventions result in increased convictions for members of communities already targeted by the carceral state rather than promoting their safety. The third section connects theory to practice by describing the various and often disparate coalitions working to end sexual harm and/or state violence. The final section outlines ten practices to “confront sexual harm, end state violence and transform our communities” (p. 155). Across the 10 practices, Levine and Meiners encourage the readership to embrace the complexity of coalition building as well as situate the book within abolition feminism, “the melding of anti-racist prison abolitionism and feminism” (p. 183). Throughout the book, Levine and Meiners use various analytic tools to critique carceral responses to sexual harm by situating sex offender registries, shifting legal definitions of violence, social policy, and the process of civil commitment in a social landscape shaped by white cis heteropatriarchy. Levine and Meiners demonstrate that within this social landscape, widely accepted, tolerated, and even celebrated carceral responses do not prevent sexual harm and instead codify state violence. Specific analytic tools include examining United States law and policy (e.g., Violence Against Women Act) as modes of discourse, reconsidering the genealogy of “risk” and “rehabilitation,” as well as exploring the political malleability of guilt and innocence as socially constructed binary categories. However, Levine and Meiners's commitment to moving beyond telling theory to showing abolition feminist praxes is one of the richest contributions of the collaborative book project. While the book facilitates connections between theory and practice across the sections, Levine and Meiners practice reciprocity with their readership by sharing transcribed conversations of the authors working through tensions and contradictions.
The Feminist and the Sex Offender arrives at a critical time for a social work audience. Following the Movement for Black Lives’ activism in 2020, the profession is recentering dialogue about anti-racist and anti-carceral responses to harm. Similarly, conversations about abolition are being engaged more broadly. As social work seeks new ways to engage in these movements, we must take stock of the profession's broad range of investments and political alignments. Specifically, we must re-explore the ways those investments and alignments have guided professionalization and social work's role in preventing and responding to sexual harm. For example, the State of Illinois licenses “sex offender evaluation and treatment providers,” and licensed social workers are qualified to become “licensed evaluators and treatment providers.” Evaluation includes using standardized measures and assessments to determine civil commitment and treatment goals. Levine and Meiners point out that biases have been found across all “objective” risk assessments. The assessments are not dependably accurate and are used to justify the violation of civil as well as human rights. Further, sex offender treatment (SOT) focuses on changing the individual toward “pro-social” behavior to prevent recidivism. While SOT may be the first time people can explore their thoughts, feelings, and experiences, SOT is not psychotherapy. People subjected to SOT are not given the rights of a therapeutic relationship, such as confidentiality and self-determination. Notably, Illinois law identifies that progress in treatment “is measured by change rather than the passage of time,” implying that a person could legally be civilly committed and/or required to be receiving SOT for an undefined period of time. Though not explicitly identified in the book, this Illinois illustration is one-way social work has greased the slippage between “law and order” and “treatment.” Ultimately, the shift from “badness” to “sickness” frames sexual harm as the outgrowth of individual pathology that needs to be medically treated rather than the result of endemic structural inequities.
Although social work has professionalized through many complex processes and institutions, including carceral medicalization, feminist and abolitionist movements within social work have long been practitioners of Levine and Meiners’ closing suggestions. Among their key recommendations are mainstreaming the use of restorative and transformative justice, advocating for radical and free sex education, eroticizing safety, and building a robust welfare state. The varying places social work shows up in the analysis, combined with the constant facilitation between theory and practice, makes The Feminist and the Sex Offender a useful resource for social work education. For social work students preparing to enter direct practice, Levine and Meiners’ model presents challenging, contradictory truths—all of us have been harmed and have caused harm—without diminishing or minimizing the impact of sexual harm. Further, the book demonstrates why carceral interventions cannot build and maintain healthy boundaries nor accountability between professional practitioners and clients, essential elements of direct practice. The book is United States-centric and does not deeply explore the harm that occurs in intimate relationships. However, the book does provide a grounding analysis and supports the building of critical reflexivity, a skill students can carry into their own practice.
