What can Marxist methods tell us about sexual difference?1 As this dossier suggests, they can help to reveal how the colonial imposition of sex and gender was entangled with the suppression of proletarian gender variance in the capitalist core; they can tell us about the effect of shifting labor relations on the composition of queer and trans subjects; and they can explain precisely why there are zero degrees of separation between sexual liberation and class struggle. Indeed, a critique of sexual difference requires that we restore to the concept of class its richness as a category internally bonded — at the level of capital’s own contradictory movement — to categories of social differentiation. The relation between capital and labor is the analytical root, for instance, when it comes to matters of unwaged and precariously waged survival, where sexed categories and their orderings can be grasped as indirect products of capital-in-motion.

In various ways, the four essays gathered here endeavor to get to the heart of the question, as Chris Nealon puts it, of how categories come into social being in the first place.2 This was always Marx’s question too, he points out, and in this regard, many have observed that Marx’s break with the Young Hegelians was based in large part on his disagreement with them about the possibility of a reformed state:

…The state as a state abolishes private property (i.e. man decrees by political means the abolition of private property) when it abolishes the property qualification for voters and candidates, as has been done in many of the North American States. [Thomas] Hamilton interprets this phenomenon quite correctly from a political standpoint: The masses have gained a victory over property owners and financial wealth. Is not private property ideally abolished when the non-owner comes to legislate for the owner of property? The property qualification is the last political form in which private property is recognized. But the political suppression of private property not only does not abolish private property; it actually presupposes its existence. The state abolishes, after its fashion, the distinctions established by birth, social rank, education, occupation, when it decrees that birth, social rank, education, occupation are non-political distinctions; when it proclaims, without regard to these distinctions, that every member of society is an equal partner in popular sovereignty … Far from abolishing these effective differences, it only exists so far as they are presupposed…3

As Christopher Arthur observes of this passage, “the State establishes its universality, and the citizens their communality, only by abstracting away from the real differences and interests that separate the members of civil society and set them against one another.”4 More than this, Arthur’s commentary highlights how, as he invokes the French and American constitutions, Marx draws our attention to a contradiction inherent in the distinction between political rights and the so-called natural inalienable rights of liberty, property, and security. The problem is that the system of political rights intended to protect and defend our “natural” rights is based on non-interference, meaning that it necessarily takes the form of a proscription of liberty: “the limits within which each individual can act without harming others are determined by law, just as a boundary between two fields is marked by a stake.”5

Thus, as Marx notes, commenting on the right of property, people begin to see in other people not the realization but the limitation of their own liberty.6 The individual is set at odds with the communal. I cannot drain this wetland for property development because it’s legally protected as a conservation area. I cannot hope to get this job because it’s an affirmative action hire.The limitation of liberty is, of course, ultimately guarded by legally mandated violence: in Marx’s words, “security is the supreme social concept of civil society: the concept of the police.”7 The supposedly natural rights of liberty, property, and security, as Arthur highlights, are therefore “not founded upon the relations between man and man, but rather on the separation of man from man.”8

There are always other ways to get what you want, of course — whether that involves the allowances afforded by informal cultural codes, legal loopholes, or legally protected ways to destroy the earth — and they reveal the real differences that set people against one another: I can buy this other piece of less beautiful, non-protected wetland and dump mortar on it. I can sexually assault my friend because I feel like it, and in this society probably get away with it. Yet, as many besides Arthur have pointed out before me, the point is that it is not exceptions to the law that offer a conduit for transphobic, homophobic, and misogynist social currents, but the law itself that, in declaring us all equal, separates us as self-interested little bots, or as thoughtful compassionate beings just trying to survive. From the standpoint of capital it makes no difference which, since (with a few exceptions) we all live under the same coercions as we go about reproducing capitalist society in our collective yet uncoordinated and most uncommunal way. At what point would it be more accurate to say that it’s not the police but Grok who is the supreme social concept of civil society? The Faustian pact between liberalism and fascism inheres in this agreement on the individual as the base social unit.

As Sita Balani points out, moreover, the law makes its own exceptions concerning who gets to do what they want: the introduction of ASBOs (“anti-social behaviour orders”) in the UK in 1998 prohibited certain people from doing things like wearing hoodies: “everyone is equal in the eyes of the law — except you, over there, wearing that.”9 But as Balani also intimates, this is really just law-as-usual: it is law acting as the law of separation and non-interference, as the defense of inalienable “natural” rights, and thus as the limitation of liberty. The 2025 UK Supreme Court ruling on the definition of “woman” and “sex” is a classic example. In a decision considered medically illiterate by countless doctors, five judges decided that “biological sex” — determined by a brief inspection at birth — would in turn define the terms “woman” and “sex” under the Equality Act 2010.10 They accepted the argument of the plaintiffs, For Women Scotland (funded by billionaire JK Rowling), that sex is biological and immutable. And while the Deputy President of the Supreme Court, Lord Hodge, warned “against reading this judgement as a triumph of one or more groups in our society at the expense of another,” the overriding rationale for the decision worked backward from a desired policy outcome to a fantastical medical pronouncement.11 The court followed the monied interest of the gender critical movement to make whatever claim was necessary to reserve single-sex spaces for “biological” women, and to assert the legal rights of this imaginary constituency to go to the public toilet without fear of “harassment or discrimination.”12 It is no coincidence that the decision was also entirely consistent with the liberal capitalist principle of the limitation of liberty for some in the name of defending inalienable “natural” rights for others.

In this regard Marx’s point about man as political citizen and man “as he really is” — the owner of property and Grokian agent of self-interest — is not unrelated to a markedly different kind of contradiction between sex as abstract legal category and sex as it really is: mutable, ambiguous, both positively and negatively social.13 The reality of sex is what TERFs can’t stand, actually. Indeed, Balani highlights the common thread between the exit fantasies of tech billionaires (tax-free enclaves, underground bunkers, space colonies), Brexiteers (impermeable borders), and transphobic feminisms (impermeable sexual categories), to note how “together, they gesture towards a world in which we can all be separately legislated: a techno-capitalist horizon of total individuation.”14 Moreover, Marx’s distinction can further help to flesh out Balani’s main argument, which rather gallantly returns us to the issue of toilets to point out that while “some on the left … argue that the toilets in a university or the bank might be something of a minor concern,” the contrary is true because

There remains something useful in a simultaneous contestation over the most general infrastructure. While horizons of universalism come with the taint of liberalism’s failures, a left retreat from the universal comes with immediate benefits for the hard right, whose ascendency is propelled by an insistence that left politics is merely a game of self-interest played by unscrupulous minorities.15

Toilets are helpful sites of political struggle, then, and appropriate for this ripened contradiction: they are private and thus sort of embarrassing but essential to the well-being of bodily organs like kidneys, large intestines, urethras, uteri, and penises. And they are also helpful for the critique that might accompany such struggle because they bring us back to an analysis of the whole, especially if we take Balani’s argument for the universal to mean something like a Jamesonian injunction to “always totalize!”16

While Balani argues that the battle for public infrastructure is a battle for a kind of class-consciousness no longer tied to wage-labor, I want to make a related point about the example of the Supreme Court ruling and the generality of public toilets, which has to do with what it teaches us about sexed categories as a product of capitalist “liberty.” Capital does not care about the specific particularities of difference, only that there is difference, and preferably an optimal range of difference conducive to the forms of separation and individuation required for accumulation. In pitting cis women against trans women via the invented category of biological woman, then, reactionary feminists and the UK legal system are defending the boundaries installed by abstract politics (marking them with a stake, indeed). They are defending equality before the law insofar as they are defending the suppression of real differences that makes such a thing possible. In this sense, they are engaging in “pure politics,” and doing so under the coercions of capital’s impersonal compulsions.17 This is not to deny that For Women Scotland are not driven by a contemptible hatred, but that transphobic and transmisogynist hatred is not gratuitous, extra-economic, or purely libidinal (even if it does shape the individual psyche), but radically connected to — we might say symptomatic of — the movements and crises of value itself.

Yet while groundbreaking scholarship has demonstrated that the law upholds abstract equality by enabling real inequalities — Amy Dru Stanley’s analysis of market-driven contract law in From Bondage to Contract: Wage Labor, Marriage, and the Market in the Age of Slave Emancipation (1998), and Brenna Bhandar’s critique of modern property law as a “racial regime of ownership” in The Colonial Lives of Property: Law, Land, and Racial Regimes of Ownership (2018) are standout examples here — there is relatively little work connecting the mediations of legal categories to the impersonal and automatic movements that undergird capital accumulation.18 Nat Raha’s sharp critique of transliberalism notwithstanding, this seems an especially important feminist project because it helps us to grasp why the backlash to the publicness of trans life in the last decade has been so marked in contrast to the late-twentieth-century assimilationist logics of pinkwashing and lean-in feminism.19 As the persecuted symbol of the real, universal, and unlimited possibilities of gender and sexual difference, transgender and transsexuality present a basic incompatibility with political-economic social categories per se. As such, they sit in direct antagonism with what I set out above as the liberal-fascist compact on “total individuation.”

But still, there is more to this. It is not the anti-categorical implication of trans in itselfthat, by dint of being incompatible with liberal and fascist technologies of individuation, makes it the most devalued form of sexed-gendered difference today. Rather, the point is that its self-assertion threatens to topple the labor hierarchies on which capitalist accumulation depends. It is worth pausing here for a moment to recall how capital accumulation cannot take place in any single location. Rather, it requires the orchestral movement of the system as a whole because value arises as a social average (as socially necessary labor-time), meaning that it arises everywhere and nowhere. As Beverley Best puts it, “the gravitational force of value holds at every moment of capitalist accumulation.”20 Capitalism’s forms of perfectly legal differentials and the presupposed real inequalities which are their condition of possibility are what make the whole thing possible!When capital’s faltering productivity levels need remediating, for example, technologies of sexed, gendered, and raced difference serve up the flexible, cheap, relative surplus labor required to maintain some level of accumulation. The legal categories of private property, citizenship, the wage-contract; the geographical mobilization and fixing-in-place of laborers; global chains of commodity production: all depend on real inequalities, on misery, on violence, and on “group-differentiated vulnerability to premature death.”21 These gradated and relative differences are the things that allow value to move.

*

Critiquing sexed categories as concepts mediated by capitalist value relations, and attending to the difficulty that sex and gender variation present both for their reactionary antagonists and for a range of liberal and anti-capitalist defenders of trans life, is therefore the project broadly shared in the essays that follow. Since as Kay Gabriel observes in the first essay of this dossier, sex change should “mean less”; it “should be casual, easy, and universally accessible.” Making the case that the object of trans studies is not trans people, but the abstractions of sexual difference and the subjective dimensions through which sex is mediated, Gabriel’s essay underscores how sexual difference is rooted in the sexual division of labor. And yet, it is not the dynamics of the capital-labor relation but the social meaning of sex and gender that is at issue here, as Gabriel highlights in the definition she offers of sex change as “a transformation of a series of relationships of recognition, of self to self and self to other.” Gender is not about voluntarily identifying with one side of a binary, as the mish-mash of centrist realpolitik and culture war discourse would have us believe; rather, it is a fantasy of being identified, being sexually seen — a fantasy shared by all of us, trans or not, and “a compromised expression of agency that ideally rests on the agency of others.” Sex change aims to transform gender:

the actual object of sex change is the durable transformation of relationships between self and other, mediated by the body, where the body here is understood to be social at every point, and thus to belong in a Lacanian sense —as Gayle Salamon and Judith Butler have argued—to the Imaginary, not the Real.

Finding a way to restore questions of subjectivity and sexuality to Marxist transfeminist study is important because “the lie of liberalism is that sex change is not sexual.” To prove that, au contraire, recognition is an indelibly sexual fantasy mediated by a thoroughly social body, Gabriel offers an erotic parable that, beyond providing titillation (though it gives that, too), manages to figuratively demonstrate how our own imaginary relationship to our body is just that — a relationship formed through (imaginary and real) relationships with others, who we hope will regard us sexually, and in a particular way. For those who change sex, then, the hope is to be seen as “differently fuckable.”

But to be regarded is not only about being sexually seen, even if such recognition is a prerequisite for a bearable life. As Gabriel points out, structure-based organizing has provided a basis for class struggles shared among seemingly disparate kinds of subjects: if people are moved to organize in part because “they feel ground down and humiliated,” structure-based organizing doesn’t require that they are united beyond this fact. The classic working-class demand for dignity is thus revived here as a demand that conjoins sexual liberation struggles to struggles over wages and working conditions, insofar as dignity is a demand for the ability to materially and psychically reproduce oneself “with one’s head held high.” As Gabriel suggests, fascists know all too well that trans struggles are class struggles, and that is why they have publicly targeted transexuals as a means of suppressing proletarian solidarities — a fact that returns us to ask: Why is sex change such a big deal; why does it instigate trans moral panic?

Emma Heaney’s contribution to this dossier helps to answer that question by showing us how the drive toward sexual individuation took shape over the colonial nineteenth century, as non-cis sexual socialities were made increasingly illegible by the imposition of bourgeois sexual norms. What Foucault called sexuality, or the form of the bourgeoisie’s moral self-legitimization, Heaney argues, is better grasped as the invention and regulation of cisness: a double operation in which “the creation of the gender normative gay defined by sexual object rather than gender difference, and the creation of the proper transsexual defined by a regrettable but correctable gender difference” led to the reinvention of queer and trans as a private matter and a form of “medical enclosure.”

Especially important here is the connection Heaney draws between, on the one hand, the attempted eradication of sex as a collective affair in the proletarian socialities of industrializing nations, and the way the very same bourgeois authorities understood non-cisness as a racial, “population-level” trait of colonized subjects. The criminalization by the British Raj of Kinnar and Hijra through legal processes that “calcified caste identities into administrative and labor categories”; the coerced disappearance of the amrad (the young male beloved) in Iran; and the many social roles that compose the category of Two-Spirit people in the Indigenous Americas all involved the colonial application of spurious sexual knowledges as tools for population management during a period of capital’s rapid expansion across colonial territories. At the same time, the development of separate nosologies for homosexuality and transness in the colonial core was, as Heaney argues, part of “a racializing narrative that reconciled the vast and various ways that vernacular sexual cultures violated cisness (albeit not the gender binary) with the demand that white bourgeois subjects be made to have their difference named, taxonomized, and filed as something other than racial or class degeneracy.”

Almost as a sidenote, Heaney’s argument unravels the Leftist transphobic argument that queer and trans forms of desire and recognition are themselves a product “bourgeois” identity politics, and somehow separable from “working-class” realities. Indeed, plotting their proletarian histories alongside the bourgeois technologies of medicalization, narratives of “entrapment,” and the rise of nineteenth-century sexology reveals that “Leftist transphobia is indeed a class antipathy but not, as it often presents itself, an anti-capitalist one. Rather, these sentiments reflect the historical residue of the bourgeois imposition of that class’s own atomized nuclear family.”

Heaney’s assessment of cisness as a technology of individuation is also valuable because it gives us a way to understand the invention of cisness as internally connected to capital-in-motion, and as one of the products of a global process of capitalist expansion and accumulation. In this regard, bourgeois categories of sex and gender are intimately connected to what I present in my own essay as the liberal categories of neoclassical economic thought, which remain rooted in naturalistic conceptions of the individual agent abstracted from any particular form of society. Indeed, neoclassical economic ideas about the motives of individuals somehow governing capitalist value relations grew out of what Marx critiqued as a “substantialist” concept of value in classical political economy: the notion, as Michael Heinrich puts it, that “the worker has expended a specific quantity of abstract labour and this quantity exists within the individual commodity.”22

There’s a tempting analogy to be drawn here: Marx’s critique of the idea that value is congealed as a substance within the individual commodity might seem to run parallel to Judith Butler’s famous argument, in Gender Trouble, that sex conceived as an ontological substance provides the ground for a “substantializing view of gender.”23 We might say that Butler and Marx both problematize the concept of substance by examining the concealing social forms of money and gender. However — and this is my point — it is the specific way in which these pairings, value/money and sex/gender, are not analogous that is the difficult question we need to examine if we are to specify the relationship between capital and sexual difference.

In my essay, I argue that sex cannot be considered a real abstraction like value, because sex can (and does) change. Yet understanding value not as a “thing” but as the dominant social modality through which sexual difference is antagonistically arranged underscores what is so difficult to grasp about how “sex” arises in a capitalist totality, because it faces head on the problem of how to account for capital’s retroactive, presuppositional, totalizing movement, where one event doesn’t simply cause another. My suggestion, though, is that a value-critical inversion of Butler’s argument that gender substantializes sex allows us to theorize sex as a mediating technology that has a definite and systematic relation to capital accumulation: sex and gender emerge as mediations rooted in the always-shifting boundary between waged and unwaged labor. Yet if these thin abstractions seem rather lofty, an analysis of the relationship between sexual difference and the value form offers more than the satisfaction of being theoretically correct, I suggest, because it makes way for a radical critique of the objectively existing (and in one sense, impersonal and automatic) compact between the naturalizing, empirical assumptions of liberal political economy on the one hand, and the liberty-property-security-speak of a substantialist “gender-critical” feminism on the other.

Our dossier ends with a longer essay by Sam Solomon; a Marxian re-reading of Leslie Feinberg’s Stone Butch Blues as a novel whose episodic plot tracks its protagonist Jess’s movement between different labor formations. As Solomon puts it, Stone Butch Blues narrates “postwar, Northeastern labor history as gender history,” and literary labor, especially, as a site for gender and sexual politics. While the novel is in part about the role of literary labor in the project of restoring queer and trans histories and indeed, composing living history in the very act of recording it, Solomon shows how this fight for dignity, for political education, and for solidarity is bound up in the feminization and deterioration of labor relations in general.

Thus, the landscape of deindustrializing Buffalo in the 1970s and New York City in the 1980s is not a background but a central plot device in Stone Butch Blues; one that undergirds Feinberg’s dialectical narration of the “dynamic gendering of literary labor relations.” On one level, this means that Jess’s life is one in which precarious access to wage-labor means moving from job to job, being repeatedly new at work, and getting repeatedly “sized up”: in Feinberg’s words, “throughout the plant, there is this question: man or woman, boy or girl?” Getting clocked as trans has consequences for the kind of work one can access, and in this regard, Solomon’s reading aligns with Gabriel’s argument about recognition as a struggle for survival (indeed, Gabriel draws one of her own educative examples from Stone Butch Blues). In this vein, Solomon further demonstrates how shifting labor relations are figured in relation to the sensuous activity of wage-labor as a gendering and racializing process itself, as “the conveyor belt held us together” but also as the successes and failures of union activism reveal both divisions and surprising solidarities between butches and cis straight men.

The status of Stone Butch Bluesas a work of Marxist gender theory comes to the fore, then, where the novel documents managerial tactics to divide workers in order to show how apparently isolated experiences of exploitation “constitute a single struggle,” as well as in Feinberg’s development of a character who “develops radical political consciousness unevenly and haltingly.” Most importantly, perhaps, Solomon’s reading of Stone Butch Blues complexifies existing interpretations of the novel as an account of gender dysphoria. Showing how Feinberg narrates Jess’s gender transition as a psychic necessity that is dialectically constituted by her relationship to wage-labor and her struggle as part of a collective labor history, Solomon underscores how, “in Feinberg’s gender theory, class analysis accounts for historical changes to gendered relations of production.” Jess’s self-formation thus proceeds through a series of contradictions in which gender and labor are figured in somewhat counterintuitive relation: “going stealth” as a man after top surgery does not lead to more reliable wages in the midst of 1970s economic recession, yet when she begins presenting as visibly gender-transgressive in New York City, Jess secures casual work in phototypesetting, a new technology in the emergent feminized “third shift.”

We might remark upon the fact that it’s taken until 2026 for us to have a substantive Marxist reading of Stone Butch Blues — a novel about work and gender by a self-declared “revolutionary communist” who wanted the novel to circulate for free like a political pamphlet. In their retrospective attentions, the essays collected here also highlight the importance of remembering the queer Marxian concepts and methods we already have. To mention just a few: Rosemary Hennessy’s dialecticizing of the concept of “second skin” in her 2013 book, Fires on the Border: The Passionate Politics of Labor Organizing on the Mexican Frontera; Kevin Floyd’s demonstration, in his essay “Automatic Subjects: Gendered Labour and Abstract Life” (2016), of why a precise understanding of what value actually is matters for revolutionary theory; Gayle Salamon’s concept of a “felt sense” of a body in Assuming a Body: Transgender and the Rhetoric of Materiality (2010); Christopher Nealon’s many interventions connecting questions of subjectivity and representation to a critique of capitalist totality in Infinity for Marxists: Essays on Poetry and Capital(2023); Gayle Rubin’s 1975 account of kinship exchange as the site of production of the category women, in “The Traffic in Women: Notes on the ‘Political Economy’ of Sex.”24 That much of this work is the product of literary scholars working in English departments says something about the successful eradication of Marxism, since the 1980s, from economics departments in North American universities — where present variants of Chicago school and neoclassical economics now rule the day — but it also points to the relative absence of Marxist scholarship in gender and sexuality studies departments, which would take longer to explain but is symptomatically if indirectly related to the fact that many of these departments are currently facing the existential threat known as “restructuring.” Where will queer and trans Marxisms go next? We must hope that the attacks on humanities scholarship in the preserve of institutions will be accompanied by an increasing prevalence of the kinds of intellectual and revolutionary thought and study that have always been a part of liberation movements. That’s where the best ruthless critique comes from, after all.

1. I would like to express my thanks to Rosemary Hennessy, Chris Nealon, Seb Franklin, and my co-conspirators for their insightful feedback and support in putting this dossier together.
2. Christopher Nealon, “Abstraction, Intuition, Poetry,” ELH, 88: 2 (2021) 396.
3. Karl Marx, Early Writings, trans and ed. T.B. Bottomore (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1964) 11-12.
4. Christopher Arthur, “Introduction,” The German Ideology: Part One by Karl Marx (New York: International Publisher, 1987) 8.
5. Arthur, “Introduction” 20.
6. Arthur, “Introduction” 25.
7. Arthur, “Introduction” 25.
8. Arthur, “Introduction” 9.
9. Sita Balani, “Decomposing Public Space: 55 Tufton Street and Organised Transphobia,” Weird Economies, 4 August 2025, https://tinyurl.com/ytvrmujb..
10. The British Medical Association condemned the Supreme Court ruling as “biologically nonsensical.” See “Doctors condemn Supreme Court ruling on trans women as ‘scientifically illiterate,’” Independent, Tuesday 29 April 2025, https://www.independent.co.uk/news/uk/politics/trans-gender-supreme-court-ruling-bma-doctors-b2741304.html..
11. “Supreme Court backs ‘biological’ definition of woman,” BBC News, 16 April 2025, https://www.bbc.com/news/articles/cvg7pqzk47zo. .
12. “United Kingdom: Supreme Court decides sex means biological sex in Equality Act,” Baker McKenzie, 25 April 2025, https://insightplus.bakermckenzie.com/bm/employment-compensation/united-kingdom-supreme-court-decides-sex-means-biological-sex-in-equality-act. .
13. It bears noting that a critique of this logic is also present in Marx’s critique of the commodity form: see Marx’s analysis of how real inequality is masked by the social form of the commodity in Capital, Volume I, 166.
14. Balani, “Decomposing Public Space.”
15. Balani, “Decomposing Public Space.”
16. Philip E. Wegner, Periodizing Jameson: Dialectics, the University, and the Desire for Narrative (Evanston, IL: Northwestern University Press, 2014) 15.
17. In this capitalist sense too, the personal is political in that the political must deny the personal, the real difference upon which it is based.
18. Amy Dru Stanley, From Bondage to Contract: Wage Labor, Marriage, and the Market in the Age of Slave Emancipation (Cambridge University Press, 1998), and Brenna Bhandar, The Colonial Lives of Property: Law, Land, and Racial Regimes of Ownership (Durham: Duke University Press, 2018). For work to this end, however, see Alexander Stoffel’s chapter “A Marxist Theory of Sexuality and Desire,” in Eros and Empire; The Transnational Struggle for Sexual Freedom in the United States” (Redwood, CA: Stanford University Press, 2025) 146–174, and Simon Clarke’s chapter “State, Class Struggle, and the Reproduction of Capital,” in The State Debate (Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 1991) 183–203.
19. Nat Raha, “Transfeminine Brokenness, Radical Transfeminism,” South Atlantic Quarterly 116, no. 3 (July 2017).
20. Beverley Best, The Automatic Fetish: The Law of Value in Marx’s Capital (New York: Verso, 2024) 11.
21. Ruth Wilson Gilmore, Golden Gulag: Prisons, Surplus, Crisis, and Opposition in Globalizing California (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2007) 28.
22. Michael Heinrich, How to Read Marx’s Capital: Commentary and Explanations on the Beginning Chapters, trans. Alexander Locascio (New York: Monthly Review Press, 2021) 49.
23. Judith Butler, Gender Trouble: Feminism and the Subversion of Identity (New York and London: Routledge, 1990) 30.
24. Rosemary Hennessy, Fires on the Border: The Passionate Politics of Labor Organizing on the Mexican Frontera(Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2013); Kevin Floyd, “Automatic Subjects: Gendered Labour and Abstract Life,” Historical Materialism 24, no. 2 (2016): 61–86; Gayle Salamon, Assuming a Body: Transgender and the Rhetorics of Materiality (New York: Columbia University Press, 2010); Christopher Nealon, Infinity for Marxists: Essays on Poetry and Capital (London: Brill, 2023); Gayle Rubin, “The Traffic in Women: Notes on the Political Economy of Sex,” in Toward an Anthropology of Women, ed. Rayna R. Reiter (New York and London: Monthly Review Press, 1975), 157–210.