#academic corruption

By: James L. Nuzzo

Published: Jun 26, 2026

University humanities departments are the root cause of many societal ills. Critical theory has been widely adopted as the intellectual framework in those departments, and we are all its cannon fodder through its impact on policy and culture.

Because the bars for scholarship and academic appointments have been lowered in recent years, universities are now increasingly staffed by political activists. These academic activists do not engage in the disinterested pursuit of truth through rigorous scholarship, which is the traditional mission of the university professor. Instead, academic activists use the university as a vehicle for transmitting critical theory, and they constantly scheme about how to best accomplish this goal. Evidence of this scheming is found in a paper recently published in Pedagogy, Culture & Society. The paper, “The moral-political economy of discomfort: who is allowed to feel uncomfortable in higher education,” was written by a Michalinos Zembylas—a professor of education at the Open University of Cyprus and Chair for Critical Studies in Higher Education Reform at the Nelson Mandela University in South Africa.

In the paper, Zembylas suggested that universities have become so good at institutionalising “pedagogies of discomfort“ that these discomforts are now less surprising to students and perhaps losing their impact. Zembylas called these pedagogical techniques “authorised discomfort” because university administrators view them as acceptable forms of intellectual torture for enhancing student “critical consciousness.” Zembylas then discussed the pedagogies of discomfort that are not broadly accepted by university administrators. Zembylas referred to these pedagogical techniques as “unauthorised discomfort.” Zembylas recommended that academic activists press forward with these “unauthorised discomforts” to achieve their broader political aims.

Below, I provide excerpts from Zembylas’ paper. While reading them, I encourage readers to contemplate academic activists and how they spend their days plotting to gradually increase student and staff thresholds of “discomfort”—often at taxpayer expense.

Remember, Zembylas and his ilk are not genuine researchers or educationalists. They are political revolutionaries disguised as “scholars.” They seek to dismantle traditional systems of education, politics, law, culture, and civility. They want to gain political power to change policy based on their subjective whims. They repeatedly state or imply these things in their academic papers. The time to push back against them is now.

Excerpts from the paper:

“One risk that has received comparatively little attention in the literature over these years concerns the ways in which discomfort can gradually be absorbed into institutional pedagogical repertoires. Rather than remaining an unsettling interruption, discomfort may become reframed as an expected – indeed, even desirable – component of pedagogies that can somehow be ‘productively’ addressed. In other words, what was once framed as a critical intervention challenging emotional and institutional norms now risks becoming a ‘normal’ component of ‘virtuous’ and ‘productive’ pedagogies.”

“As discomfort becomes institutionalised, it risks turning from something emergent into something structured, from disruptive into normative, from open-ended into time-bound, and from a practice that holds tensions open into one that seeks to settle them... Of course, the institutionalisation of discomfort does not eliminate it but renders it predictable and governable. To put this differently, discomfort becomes something that can be planned for, contained, and evaluated – an affective and pedagogical resource that institutions can deploy to signal ethical engagement without necessarily destabilising existing relations of power.”

“As I have shown, some forms of discomfort are readily absorbed into institutional narratives of learning and inclusion. These forms may produce important insights, but they rarely unsettle the structures that generate injustice in the first place. Other forms, namely unauthorised discomfort, are more difficult to incorporate. Precisely because they exceed institutional tolerance, they expose the limits of affective governance and the fragility of institutional claims to ethical authority. The political promise of discomfort in pedagogy and higher education more broadly, then, does not lie in its mere presence but in its capacity to disrupt the institutional emotional norms and render visible the boundaries of institutional legitimacy.”

ABSTRACT

This article explores how masculinity assemblages are composed within postdigital youth landscapes where gender is in a state of epistemic crisis and the digital is assumed to operate primarily as a coercive force. Building on queer and feminist posthuman praxis, we conceptualize the postdigital through Laura Marks’ information fold alongside Celia Lury’s notion of platformization and problem space where we share a compositional methodology that treats methods as generative practices that surface and transform problems in their becoming. Our analysis draws on three arts-informed projects with children and young people (ages 9–18) that used talking, writing, drawing, poetry, sculpting and film. We get creative with manipulation as man-i-pulation across three information folds: an altright ‘algo-rhythm’, a government hashtag campaign and feminist instapoetry. Together, they explore how masculinities are unstable, pliable, multiply entangled and always in motion. We go on to show how such data, re-created in moments of connection with multiple audiences, can come to resonate as posthuman participants beyond the fieldwork encounter. Postdigital information folds, animated through creative praxis, open resource-full spaces for unpredictability, invention, and transformation.

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Abstract

This article focuses on what bodies know yet which cannot be expressed verbally. We started with a problem encountered during conventional interviewing in an ex-mining community in south Wales when some teen girls struggled to speak. This led us to focus on the body, corporeality and movement in improvisational dance workshops. By slowing down and speeding up video footage from the workshops, we notice movement patterns and speculate about how traces of gender body-movement practices developed within mining communities over time become actualised in girls’ habitual movement repertoires. Inspired by the works of Gilles Deleuze, Felix Guattari and Erin Manning, a series of cameos are presented: room dancing; the hold; the wiggle; the leap and the dance of the not-yet. We speculate about relations between the actual movements we could see, the in-act infused with the history of place, and the virtual potential of movement.

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Abstract

Black Queer Feminist Alchemy: A Codex of Sociogenic Conditions of Knowing and Being articulates a counterhumanist paradigm and methodological praxis that begins from the premise that Black life does not require validation within dominant epistemological systems to be recognized as fully human. Rather than positioning Black experience as an object of study, this work proceeds from Black queer ways of knowing as already generative, sufficient, and in excess of the categories that have historically sought to contain them. In doing so, it refuses the terms through which humanness has been narrowly defined and reorients inquiry toward the conditions through which knowing and being become possible.

Drawing on Sylvia Wynter’s sociogenic principle, this codex develops Sociogenic Condition and Fractal Threading as conceptual and methodological articulations for engaging these conditions. Together, they attend to how humanness is produced, lived, and felt across history, relation, and everyday life, while offering a mode of inquiry that moves through recursion, relation, and return rather than linear progression or resolution. Within this orientation, knowledge is not extracted or stabilized, but emerges through sustained engagement with lived experience, memory, and the ongoing movement of meaning.

Organized as a codex, the work resists a singular, fixed path of reading and instead invites multiple points of entry. Its methodological movements operate relationally, allowing inquiry to remain responsive to the conditions from which it emerges rather than bound to predetermined sequence or outcome. In this way, the codex repositions research as a relational and ongoing practice rather than a closed system of explanation.

By centering relational, affective, and lived modes of knowing, this work contributes a paradigm and methodological praxis to qualitative research that reimagines how knowledge is produced, shared, and lived, expanding the conditions under which inquiry itself becomes possible.

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Abstract

Informed by extensive fieldwork within Hawzas in Lebanon – traditional Shia institution training scholars and Imams – this paper thinks alongside three feminine queer Muslim cis men within this Islamic space. Focusing on the body, emotionality, and sexuality, the analysis explores how they experience the Hawza legitimizing and enabling key aspects of their feminine queer dwelling. Crucially, they do not articulate this queer enablement and the entwined negotiation of hegemonic masculinities through Eurocentric modernity and liberal progressivism but through specific constructions of ‘Islamic tradition’. By exploring these queer lives within Muslim-majority and ‘traditional’ Islamic spaces, the paper accordingly complicates homocolonialist discourses of a flat incommensurability between (any) Islam and queerness and positions queer Muslim lives as possible beyond Western-centric paradigms inviting the development of a project for a ‘decolonial Muslim queer’ to be (re)made.

By: John Sailer

Published: Jun 13, 2026

In April, Yale University released a report exploring why Americans have lost trust in higher education. Widely discussed at the time, the report was notable not so much for what it said as for who said it. Many of its conclusions—for instance, that the “high tuition-high aid” model invites distrust—were fairly obvious. The Yale report mattered because it was a Yale report, marking a rare moment of self-reflection by an elite university.

Now, another report offers further self-reflection, but with far greater substance. Last week, Vanderbilt University and Washington University in St. Louis released a jointly commissioned report on the “state of scholarship” in the humanities and social sciences. The report takes on a question closely related to higher education’s crisis of trust: has scholarship itself been politicized or otherwise degraded?

While hedging considerably, the report’s authors land on a clear thesis: a noteworthy contingent of contemporary scholars subordinates the pursuit of knowledge to political and social goals. These goals, the authors note, “are generally though not exclusively associated with the progressive left,” and involve “turning the humanities into vehicles for social justice, or the elimination of pernicious social hierarchies,” as manifested in causes such as anti-racism, feminism, and decolonization.

Despite identifying this progressive trend, the report’s committee is not recognizably conservative. It is composed of mainstream academics. That includes several philosophers from New York University—widely considered one of the world’s best philosophy departments—along with notables like NYU history professor Katherine Fleming, who is also president of the $8-billion J. Paul Getty Trust.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, the committee’s concern is not with “viewpoint diversity,” or lack thereof. “The problem,” the report notes, “is not that scholars in these areas are significantly more liberal or progressive than the general public.” Instead, the core issue is epistemological—having to do, that is, with how certain scholars understand the nature of truth and evidentiary standards.

The report argues that politicized scholarship operates in three main ways. Some scholars simply dismiss unwanted views. Others reject understanding as the primary purpose of scholarship. Still others reject the idea of objective, value-independent truth altogether—in other words, they embrace relativism.

From start to finish, the report blames relativism. In the preface, the committee quickly reject the “complaint” about politicized research in its “bald form”—but nevertheless argues that the “sharpest version” of the critique traces the degradation of scholarship to the “pervasive repudiation of the very idea of scholarly objectivity in favor of the view that since claims to knowledge are inevitably ideological, it is fair game to assess academic scholarship on political and social grounds.” In contrast with the tepid Yale report, the committee is scathing in its assessment of relativism: “To the extent that views of this sort have taken hold, they represent a catastrophe for the humanities and the social sciences understood as academic disciplines.”

This is the strength of the report, but also its weakness. It relies on an assumption one might expect from analytic philosophers: that bad scholarship is driven by faulty philosophical views. In the report’s telling, these misguided scholars start with relativism as a foundational premise, which then allows them to dismiss any standard on ideological grounds. These scholars, the report elaborates, are almost inevitably inconsistent, since they believe that their claims about social justice are indeed true; ultimately, they support their views by “giving reasons and marshalling evidence.”

But it’s possible that the report gets the story backwards, with relativism playing a supporting role, rather than the central one. A scholar-activist’s foundational commitment might be to their political goals, in which case relativism becomes just another way to dismiss opposing views without making real arguments. If you can’t defeat your interlocutor’s reasoning, simply dismiss it as cisheteropatriarchal reasoning. From this angle, it is entirely predictable that scholar-activists apply their relativism inconsistently, as it wasn’t a core commitment to begin with.

It’s worth noting, moreover, that the prevalence of scholar-activism is likewise entirely predictable phenomenon, given the explicit commitment of many universities—and their funders. As I’ve reported before, universities have for many years carried out large-scale hiring programs that, in practice, select for scholars who openly embrace social justice advocacy. Every year, the University of California’s President’s Postdoctoral Fellowship Program hires dozens of fellows who receive special consideration for tenure-track jobs, prioritizing scholars whose research contributes to “diversity” and “equal opportunity.” While funding for the humanities and social sciences is scarce, aspiring scholar-activists can look to deep-pocketed supporters like the Andrew W. Mellon Foundation for financial backing throughout their careers.

Of course, to sort out the exact causes and consequences of scholar-activism, data on actual scholarship would be helpful. Unfortunately, although the committee “compiled detailed internal reports” on scholarship in philosophy, anthropology, sociology, history, literary studies, and music studies, these reports were not released.

Perhaps it’s best to leave the exact diagnosis open to debate. The key point remains: some scholars have seriously lost their way—and that may warrant breaking norms. Early on, the report notes that disciplines are rightly afforded a great deal of deference. No president, provost, or dean can assess quality in every field. But, as the report notes, “even this foundational principle has its limits.” Time will tell whether Vanderbilt and WashU take their own report seriously.

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By: Sarah Parshall Perry

Published: Jun 19, 2026

For most Americans, the American Bar Association is merely a professional guild that publishes ethics opinions, hosts conferences, and occasionally weighs in on public policy. But in legal education, the ABA has long occupied a far more consequential role as de facto gatekeeper to the profession. 

That status helps explain why the ABA’s recent move to suspend—and purportedly, to eliminate—two of its controversial diversity mandates for law schools represents more than an internal procedural dispute. It signals a potentially significant recalibration in the balance between accreditation authority, constitutional law, and ideological conformity in higher education. 

To understand why the fight over ABA Standards 206 and 303(c) matters, one must first understand the extraordinary leverage the ABA possesses. 

The ABA has served as the sole federally recognized accreditor of American law schools since 1952. In practical terms, accreditation determines institutional survival. Graduates of non-ABA-accredited schools are often barred from taking state bar examinations or face severe restrictions in licensure mobility. Federal student loan eligibility also hinges on accreditation. For many law schools, losing ABA approval is tantamount to institutional death. 

That power has allowed the ABA to shape not merely the quality of legal education, but increasingly the ideological and cultural priorities of law schools themselves. The organization’s standards govern everything from faculty resources to admissions practices to curricular requirements.  

For decades, one of the most controversial of those standards was Standard 206: the ABA’s “Diversity and Inclusion” requirement. 

The modern version of Standard 206, adopted in 2016 during the height of institutional DEI expansion, required law schools to demonstrate “by concrete action” a commitment to diversity and inclusion in student admissions, faculty hiring, and staff recruitment. More specifically, schools were expected to maintain diversity “with respect to gender, race, and ethnicity.” 

The language was notable not simply for its aspirational tone, but for its enforceability. “Concrete action” was not accidental phrasing. ABA site evaluation teams regularly assessed whether schools were satisfying the standard during accreditation reviews. Administrators understood the message clearly: schools were expected to produce measurable diversity outcomes or risk scrutiny of compliance. 

Critics argued that the standard functioned less as a nondiscrimination policy than as a de facto pressure campaign for race-conscious admissions and hiring practices. Law schools thus devoted enormous resources to DEI bureaucracies, racial preference programs, diversity statements, and faculty initiatives designed to satisfy accrediting expectations. And because the ABA controlled accreditation, schools had powerful incentives to comply—even in the face of contrary state and federal law.  

That tension became increasingly untenable after the Supreme Court’s 2023 decision in Students for Fair Admissions v. Harvard, which held that race-conscious university admissions programs violated the Fourteenth Amendment. The ruling fundamentally altered the legal landscape surrounding affirmative action in higher education. 

Suddenly, the ABA’s diversity mandates faced a collision with federal constitutional doctrine. 

The pressure intensified after the Trump administration issued executive orders targeting DEI initiatives across higher education and placed accreditors under direct scrutiny. The Department of Education was instructed to review whether accrediting agencies—including the ABA—were imposing unlawful diversity requirements as conditions of institutional approval. 

The ABA quickly recognized the danger. 

In February 2025, the ABA Council suspended enforcement of Standard 206 and in May 2026, the ABA Council voted to eliminate Standard 206 altogether, sending the repeal to the ABA House of Delegates for final consideration. At the same time, the Council initiated a review of Standard 303(c), a comparatively newer but equally controversial rule requiring law schools to provide education and training on “bias, cross-cultural competency, and racism” to aspiring attorneys at least twice during law school.  

If Standard 206 governed institutional behavior, Standard 303(c) reached directly into the classroom itself. 

Adopted in 2022, Standard 303(c) required every ABA-accredited law school to provide students with “substantial opportunities” for instruction related to bias, racism, and cross-cultural competency as part of the professional formation curriculum. The rule was framed by supporters as necessary preparation for modern legal practice in an increasingly diverse society. But critics saw something quite different: compelled ideological instruction masquerading as professional training. 

The controversy surrounding 303(c) stemmed not merely from its subject matter, but from its vagueness and practical implementation. The ABA never clearly defined what constituted adequate “cross-cultural competency” instruction, leaving schools to interpret compliance broadly—and often aggressively. In practice, many institutions responded by embedding mandatory DEI seminars, implicit bias workshops, identity-based programming, and race-conscious curricular modules into already crowded academic schedules. 

For law students paying six-figure tuition bills to master constitutional law, civil procedure, contracts, evidence, and trial advocacy, the mandate raised obvious concerns. Every hour devoted to compulsory ideological programming was an hour not spent developing substantive legal skills. Critics argued that aspiring attorneys were increasingly being trained less to think rigorously about the law and more to internalize fashionable sociological frameworks about power, privilege, and systemic bias. 

That concern was amplified by the inherently subjective nature of “bias” training itself. Many of the programs adopted under Standard 303(c) relied heavily on contested theories of implicit bias and systemic racism—concepts that remain deeply debated within both the social sciences and legal academia. Yet students often had little practical ability to dissent from the premises underlying the instruction, particularly in environments where disagreement could carry reputational or professional consequences. 

The irony, of course, is difficult to ignore. Legal education has traditionally prized adversarial reasoning, skepticism, and analytical rigor. But under mandates like 303(c), law schools increasingly encouraged ideological conformity on some of the most politically charged issues in American life. 

Nor was the concern merely theoretical. Some state supreme courts and lawmakers began questioning whether the ABA was exceeding its proper role as an accreditor by imposing politically infused curricular requirements unrelated to minimum competency in legal practice. Others warned that mandatory bias instruction could itself create constitutional problems at public institutions, particularly where students were effectively compelled to affirm contested viewpoints as part of their professional education. 

For years, diversity mandates were treated within legal education as morally untouchable and administratively irreversible. Yet the ABA’s abrupt retreat illustrates how dependent DEI enforcement always was on legal permissibility and political insulation. Once constitutional scrutiny sharpened and federal pressure mounted, the accrediting regime had to recalculate. 

Importantly, however, the repeal of Standards 206 and potentially 303(c) will not suddenly transform law schools into ideologically neutral institutions. 

Most elite law schools remain deeply committed to diversity initiatives as matters of institutional identity and prestige. Many universities have embedded DEI offices, faculty hiring priorities, affinity programming, and admissions philosophies into their broader bureaucratic structures. Our own reporting has revealed as much. Those efforts are unlikely to disappear merely because the ABA no longer requires them. 

What may change instead is the coercive dimension. 

Without Standard 206, schools that choose not to emphasize race-conscious diversity policies—or that wish to scale back DEI bureaucracies—may enjoy greater institutional flexibility. Without Standard 303(c), law schools may also regain discretion over how precious instructional time is allocated and whether ideological training should be mandatory at all. Public law schools in states hostile to DEI mandates may feel less vulnerable to accreditation pressure. Faculty dissent from prevailing orthodoxy may become marginally less professionally hazardous. And schools seeking viewpoint diversity may find more room to pursue it. 

Equally significant is what this episode reveals about the nature of accreditation itself. 

Accreditors wield immense power while operating largely outside public accountability. The ABA’s standards shape the legal profession indirectly but profoundly. Through accreditation, ideological preferences can become professional obligations without legislative debate or judicial review. 

That reality has increasingly drawn scrutiny from policymakers concerned about the broader role of private accrediting bodies in American higher education. Several Republican-led states, including Texas, Florida, Tennessee, and Ohio, have already explored avenues to reduce the ABA’s monopoly influence over bar eligibility and law school approval. 

The fight over Standards 206 and 303(c), then, is not merely about diversity policies. It is about who governs professional education in America—and whether accreditation should serve as a mechanism to enforce contested ideological commitments. 

The ABA’s retreat does not end legal education’s culture war. Far from it. But it does represent a rare acknowledgment that even the most entrenched institutional orthodoxies remain vulnerable when they collide with constitutional limits, political accountability, and public skepticism. 

By: Gabrielle Temaat

Published: Jun 18, 2026

College campuses saw no shortage of controversial or ideologically charged events during the 2025-26 school year. From calls to hire transgender journalists and dismantle capitalism to a “two-spirit storyteller,” college campuses engaged in a wide range of absurdity. Here are the top 10 craziest campus events The College Fix covered over the past year: 

1. ‘Hire trans people’: ASU event criticizes conservative media coverage of LGBT issues

Speakers called for more transgender journalists and criticized “conservative media” for its “politicized” coverage of gender issues during an online event in April hosted by the Center for Media and Communities at Arizona State University.

Chelsea Reynolds, director of the Center for Media and Communities, said the event aimed to “celebrate transness” and counter “harmful narratives that places like Turning Point …. Catalyze.”

Reynolds also told attendees that transgender individuals need to insert themselves into the journalism sphere to report on national issues affecting the community.

“We need queer reporters on our teams … We need to hire trans people to tell trans stories and to tell other stories, housing stories, health stories, political stories, all the stories,” Reynolds said.

2. ‘Blow up ports’: ‘Muslim anarchist’ ex-professor calls for ‘death to America’ at Virginia Tech

A former Columbia University professor, who was sanctioned for supporting terrorist groups, spoke to Virginia Tech students Friday, calling for “a total end to U.S. empire.”

“When we say Death to America, we mean, and loud and clear, a total end to U.S. empire,” Mohamed Abdou told the students, according to a video of the event posted to X by investigative analyst Stu Smith. 

“The destruction of this crusading settler colony, their entire project,” Abdou said. 

The event was held on campus, though Abdou appeared virtually. Ahead of the event, Virginia Tech wrote on X that the talk is not “university sanctioned or sponsored.”

3. UC Santa Cruz ‘queer’ philosophy event offers ‘glam surprises’ and activist training

The University of California Santa Cruz is hosting its second annual Queer Analytic Philosophy Conference in June. One philosophy professor told The College Fix the event will essentially be a training for “left-wing activists.”

The conference is set to include “a poster session” for students, “a workshop on LGBTQIA+ activism,” a party, and “other glam surprises” in addition to talks by “queer” scholars.

4. At least 17 Catholic colleges host pro-LGBT ‘Lavender Graduations’: report

A recent report from the Cardinal Newman Society revealed that at least 17 Catholic colleges hosted “Lavender Graduations” as separate ceremonies celebrating graduating LGBTQ students.

The Cardinal Newman Society, which promotes faithful Catholic education, criticized the events for promoting lifestyles that conflict with Catholic teaching.

The schools included Georgetown University, Gonzaga University, University of San Francisco, Boston College, Marquette University, St. John’s University, and College of the Holy Cross, among others. 

5. Capitalism ‘did its job’— now it’s time to replace it: Arizona State U. event

During an Arizona State University event in February, a professional futurist argued that capitalism, while once effective, no longer fits society’s emerging values and needs to be replaced by new economic systems.

Capitalism “did its job … but as you look at the emerging future, it doesn’t fit anymore,” University of Houston professor Andy Hines said during the event titled “Imagining After Capitalism.”

He pushed for three replacements to capitalism, including “redistribution.”

6. ‘Queering spirituality’: Catholic University of San Diego hosts ‘Two-Spirit storyteller’

The Catholic University of San Diego hosted an LGBT activist who discussed the topic of “queering spirituality” in April. 

According to the university’s announcement, Juan Angel Reynoso “is shlaa (Two-Spirit) Ipai-Kumeyaay from the San Pasqual Band of Mission Indians.” He also uses the term “nemuuly,” or “bear,” to identify himself.

7. University play ‘A Gay in a Manger’ features Jesus as ‘King of Gays,’ Three Wise Men as drag queens

In December, the LGBTQ Network at the U.K.’s York St. John University put on a “gay nativity story” titled “A Gay in a Manger.”

According to the performance’s description via the York St. John Students’ Union, “a long time ago in a far away land, a magnificent Angel, paid a heavenly visit to Mary and Jo who were … very close friends.”

“Soon afterwards, Queen Herod sent out a royal proclamation, calling for a mandatory party across the land. Mary and Jo packed their pride flags and set off on the long journey to the best gay club this side of the Red Sea – Heaven,” the description states.

8. UMass Amherst hosts ‘queering menopause’ ‘storytelling’ event

University of Massachusetts Amherst researchers invited lesbians and gender-confused women to share their menopause stories at a “digital storytelling” event in January.

“‘Queering Menopause: Building Collaboration for Understanding Menopause Among Sexual and/or Gender Minority People’ invites participants to tell their stories related to being in the peri/menopausal stage of their lives,” an announcement stated. 

Participants were awarded $300 and their own “1- to 3-minute digital story related to their experiences as a member of the LGBTQ+ community who is in the peri/menopausal phase of life.”

9. ASU professor calls U.S. history a ‘400-year’ pattern of ‘reproductive oppression’

The U.S. has a 400-year history of “reproductive oppression” targeting black women, Arizona State University Professor Jenny Brian said during a Zoom event hosted by the school in February. 

She criticized the U.S. for what she described as efforts to “criminalize reproductive outcomes,” as they disproportionately affect black women.

“And so what we’ve seen is that the struggle for bodily autonomy is not a series of isolated events, but a 400-year-old conversation about who is considered human enough to own their own body and to plan their reproductive futures,” she said. 

The event, titled “What is Reproductive Justice?,” was hosted by Barrett, the Honors College, at ASU. 

10. Pitt officials demand College Fix journalist delete audio recordings from public ‘trans’ event

The University of Pittsburgh hosted a “Trans Day of Vibing” event featuring various LGBTQ organizations, offering resources for trans-identifying individuals. 

One of the groups at the event, Trans YOU Niting PGH, aims to provide “affirming and accessible resources for Black transgender women and other transgender individuals” and “safe spaces for LGBTQIA+ youth,” according to its website. 

The event was initially advertised as open to all, but a journalist from The College Fix was pressured to delete interviews conducted with participants.

Abstract

As a deluge of anti-trans legislation surges across the United States, trans and queer subjects are left uniquely and unevenly haunted by the afterlives of assigning sex. Drawing upon the insights of psychoanalytic theory, continental philosophy, and trans and queer studies, this essay develops a reading of how anti-trans lawmaking generates a repetition of the assignment's mark upon the body that, I suggest, threatens the subject's very relation to meaning and the future. In doing so, I argue that the assignment of sex circulates as an undead letter across the landscape of administrative law, repeatedly tethering trans and queer lives to an unchosen and ostensibly immutable past. Attending to the conceptual framework of necropolitics, this essay argues that anti-trans legislation enacts a phenomenon that I describe, in the end, as administrative maiming, a concept which specifies how anti-trans laws leave trans and queer lives purposefully inhibited – indeed wounded – in their efforts to rewrite their relation to the signifiers inscribed at birth.

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If you don't speak Postmodern Feminist Gobbledygook, what the author is claiming is that recording sex accurately when a baby is born is a form of "maiming," leaving a permanent, lifelong "wound."

But, you know, cutting off a girl's breasts or a boy's testicles is just "healthcare." 🤷‍♂️ 🤷‍♀️