Abstract
Drawing on insights and observations from Argentina and the United States, this commentary takes stock of recent social and political developments and asks how we can envision feminist futures and reproductive justice in dystopian times. This is a time when the policies, institutions, and spaces pursued by movements for racial, environmental, queer, feminist, and social justice are under systematic attack, targeted from the highest levels of political and economic power. In the wake of authoritarian politics, multiple forms of resistance have been spreading through layers of society, from small gestures of dissent, to acts of civil disobedience, to mass protests. In the form, content, visions, and alliances emerging from these oppositional stances lie the possibilities of feminist futures. Resistance offers an opportunity to reframe adverse contexts beyond embattlement and to generate spaces, discourses, and experiences that are not simply defensive but emerge and develop in feminist terms.
How can we envision feminist futures and reproductive justice in dystopian times? How do we persist in those aspirations when authoritarian discourses and hate politics trample many of the gains achieved by feminist, anti-racist, social justice, LGBTQ+, and environmental movements? This is a time when illusions of progress have been shattered and the assumed temporalities of rights and justice shaken. Indeed, the apparatus of rights, policies, and programs aimed at redressing injustices is undergoing systematic destruction by far-right and authoritarian governments. In some cases, they are also being deployed against the very groups that have experienced or fought against such injustices.
Apparently, provocation and appropriation belong to the repertoire of unbridled power tactics that right-wing governments, from Argentina to the United States, have been wielding with dizzying speed. Cruelty and impunity have also characterized many of their economic and social policies, many of which test the limits of the law, contravene basic constitutional guarantees, and wantonly target marginalized groups and communities. Feminist goals, concepts, and organizations have been among the targets of authoritarian political forces and governments around the world. Whether denouncing so-called “gender ideology,” “woke” language, or Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) initiatives, these governments see feminism as a threat to society and a drain on state resources. What does it mean, then, to imagine feminist futures in these contexts?
Thinking about feminist futures requires consideration of multiple temporalities: It means looking at the past to learn from previous experiences; grappling with a present that includes significant regressions in rights and democratic freedoms; and envisioning a way forward that does not simply reinstate what was lost but advances a transformative alternative. Yet our present also teaches us to distrust linear narratives, to question the parameters of progress, and to recognize the back and forth of politics—intrinsically a field of dispute. Past, present, and future overlap, interpenetrate, fold onto each other. From a feminist perspective, these entanglements warn us that we cannot take any achievements for granted—not the (uneven) rights gained, not our (imperfect) democratic systems. Current events also alert us against underestimating right-wing leaders and movements that seem too “fringe,” too nonsensical to make a dent. They, too, organize and win support, sometimes appropriating and twisting the frames and strategies of progressive movements. What does it mean, then, to be a feminist and to imagine—let alone craft—feminist futures amid governments that actively deride, stigmatize, and censor feminism?
In reflecting about feminist futures, I traverse different temporalities and cultural geographies. I ponder the “scrambled temporalities” of authoritarianisms, their different incarnations in history, and the ways they were defied and sometimes defeated, though not completely. New versions carry vestiges of the past and appear today in different guises, in varied contexts. They have prompted critical scholars and activists to deploy or refashion older concepts—such as fascism—in light of current political developments, sometimes inflected by analytical insights emerging from intersectional, transnational, and local feminist and LGBTQ+ struggles and theorizing. 1
I think particularly about the United States, where I live and work, and about Argentina, where I was born and grew up, and to which I continue returning. I can see the similarities, differences, and unequal connections between these sites, which stand thousands of miles apart yet are linked through political and economic relations. While Argentina is no match for the United States’s global power, both countries are currently led by presidents (Javier Milei and Donald Trump, respectively) who exhibit similar political alignments and ideological affinities. They share a penchant for authoritarian leadership and invoke past national glories. Through their exaltation of versions of the past—enlisting myths and dismissing injustice—they intervene in the present, turning cruelty into policy and projecting a particular kind of future in the process.
In these authoritarian imaginaries, heteropatriarchy reigns supreme, trans people are to be suppressed, racialized communities accept subordination, women’s reproductive autonomy is restricted, and the ultra-rich are rewarded with societal resources that flow upward. In the meantime, the public sphere and the commons shrink, and are replaced by crass individualism and pro-corporate/pro-wealthy policies. Claims of injustice are met with repressive tactics, unconstrained by law, and/or enabled by tailor-made policies. Vulnerable populations, from racialized migrants in the United States to retirees demanding their rights in Argentina, become targets of repression. That a cast of women functionaries occupy certain positions of power in both governments, among them, the Minister of National Security in Argentina and the Secretary of Homeland Security in the United States, does not detract from the anti-feminist character of these administrations. Feminist scholars and activists in Argentina speak of an antifeminismo de estado (state antifeminism) (Bacci et al. 2025; Gago 2025), highlighting the anti-gender policies and discourse of the government, which in turn enable violence against women and LGBTQ+ communities by other social actors.
This is a time when the policies, institutions, and spaces pursued by movements for racial, environmental, queer, feminist, and social justice are under systematic attack, targeted from the highest levels of political and economic power. However, these measures have not gone unanswered. Whether in Argentina or the United States, multiple forms of resistance have been spreading through layers of society, from small gestures of dissent, to acts of civil disobedience, to mass protests. In the form, content, visions, and alliances emerging from these oppositional stances lie the possibilities of feminist futures. Resistance entails an opportunity to reframe adverse contexts beyond embattlement and to generate spaces, discourses, and experiences that are not simply defensive but emerge and develop in feminist terms.
On Abortion Rights and Reproductive Justice
The curtailment of abortion rights has been part and parcel of anti-feminist political agendas, starting before the present surge of authoritarianism. In the United States, the rolling back of abortion rights in various states, including draconian policies that severely undermined women’s and pregnant people’s bodily autonomy and self-determination, is but one example of authoritarian initiatives. These regressive measures, with roots in earlier periods, gained additional fuel through the 2022 U.S. Supreme Court decision in Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health Organization, which ended the right to abortion at the federal level (that is, before the current Trump administration, but issued by a Court majority that included three judges appointed during Trump’s first presidency). Since January 2025, when Trump took office for his second term, we have witnessed relentless attacks not only on reproductive rights, but also on broader programs and policies related to gender, sexual, and racial justice across realms of society, including education, research, environmental, humanitarian, and health institutions.
Similarly, in Argentina, the presidency of far-right libertarian Javier Milei, who took office in December 2023, has also derided feminism and targeted institutions tasked to deal with injustices and to advance human rights. For instance, his government shut down the National Institute Against Discrimination, Xenophobia and Racism as well as the Ministry of Women, Genders, and Diversity. His economic austerity measures undermined public institutions and services, negatively affecting marginalized communities and programs aimed at ensuring sexual and reproductive rights and addressing gender-based violence, among others. In line with his batalla cultural (culture war), Milei made a point to condemn feminism, or any form of “collectivism,” really, and referred to the “bloody agenda of abortion” (Foro Económico Mundial 2024). 2 This hostility emerges in part because feminist activism had grown significantly in previous years, hand in hand with the Ni Una Menos (Not One Less) movement against gender violence and the marea verde (green tide) for abortion rights, with massive numbers of people donning the triangular green kerchief of the National Campaign for the Right to Legal, Safe, and Free Abortion. 3 The movement for abortion rights achieved a major victory in December 2020, before Milei’s presidency, when Congress approved the legalization of abortion (law No. 27,610, in effect since January 2021). Although this legislation remains in place, the government has undercut the mechanisms, funding streams, and institutions that are instrumental to exercising the right to abortion and other sexual and reproductive rights. For instance, the national government has significantly diminished the supply of contraceptives and abortion medications, and dismantled a program designed to prevent unintended pregnancies among teenagers (Ramón Michel et al. 2024). Institutions of public health, and the communities they serve, have suffered as a result of insufficient funding, which has been denounced through protest and other resistance measures by health care workers (for instance, those from the Garrahan hospital, specializing in children’s health, have been on the frontlines, garnering support from various sectors of society).
As intersectional feminist scholars and activists have documented, abortion and other reproductive rights, including the right to have children, are enmeshed with a host of economic, social, and political issues. Feminist futures, then, entail interconnected approaches for a just society, even when focusing on a particular issue or aspect of a broader struggle. In envisioning reproductive justice, I turn to intersectional and transnational frameworks. I draw on knowledge shaped by my standpoint as a scholar with cross-border attachments and experiences, and a trans-local “feminist curiosity” (Enloe 2004, 3). From feminists of color in the United States who conceptualized “reproductive justice,” I have learned to consider a range of reproductive/non-reproductive experiences, beyond abortion, and to situate restrictions on bodily autonomy and reproductive self-determination within systemic and intersecting inequalities (Ross 2006; SisterSong n.d.). From feminist and abortion rights activists in Argentina, I have also learned about persistence, savvy coalition-building, and a human rights orientation that has advanced expansive notions of abortion access, safety, dignity, and legality. Many of the activists I met in the context of the abortion rights movement in Argentina have been involved, concomitantly or previously, in various social justice and progressive causes: human rights organizations, labor unions, unemployed workers movements, LGBTQ+ groups, Indigenous and Afro-descendent activism, popular education initiatives, and mobilization against gender violence, among many others. Their wide-ranging social change experiences help inform critical insights about interconnected struggles and futures. Thus, even in demands for abortion rights—a relatively narrow focus—claims have been framed within a broader theoretical scope and field of struggle (Borland and Sutton 2024).
I have also learned that imagining feminist futures or reproductive justice is not a solo enterprise. These visions are built communally, in dialogue, in conflict, and through the patient construction of—sometimes tenuous—agreements that lay out the ground to organize and move forward. Feminist worldmaking can be a space where bodies and emotions are fully present, imbuing dreams, theory, and action. In Argentina, feminist politics have taken shape through collective discussions and encounters that bring diverse activists together—whether in the tradition of asambleas (assemblies), including those organized by Ni Una Menos activists, the plenarias (plenary gatherings) within the National Campaign for the Right to Legal, Safe, and Free Abortion, or the longer-standing and broader-scale National Women’s Encuentros (meeting/gatherings) held annually in different provinces since 1986 (more recently renamed Plurinational Encuentro of Women, Lesbians, Travesti, Trans, Bisexual, Intersexual and Nonbinary People). These plural spaces of deliberation have invited difficult, but necessary, conversations, as well as spaces of joy and protest, as arenas for imagination and action. It was in these Encuentros that many of the abortion rights strategies and frames were developed (Sutton and Borland 2013).
Over the years, abortion rights activists in Argentina have powerfully articulated their grievances, exposing injustices and harm: from women who underwent stigma and humiliation in the context of clandestinity to those who risked their health or died amid unsanitary conditions and restrictive abortion policies. Activists such as Lesbians and Feminists for the Decriminalization of Abortion 4 took the initiative to promote safety by providing information about abortion with medication, through a hotline and an accessible handbook. A network of Socorristas (first responders) developed abortion accompaniment practices through which they imagined and implemented what “feminist abortions” might look like, imbued by notions of care, mutuality, horizontality, and autonomy in decision-making (Burton and Peralta 2021). Regarding abortion accompaniment, Greta, a socorrista I interviewed, referred to their creation of spaces to share information on “how to have a self-managed, safe, and loving abortion” and to support abortion seekers in the process. The Network of Health Professionals for the Right to Decide 5 has also worked to ensure abortion access and dignified treatment. Bianca, a member of the network, told me that “the model of care must be based on empathetic treatment, active listening, loving-kindness, respect, confidentiality, and privacy.” Through different means and actions, activists continue carving spaces for abortion care and new imaginaries.
While many arguments for abortion rights in Argentina have been based on health, human rights, and social justice, as the struggle for abortion legalization gained momentum, activists also talked about desire and the body, imagining different futures connected with joy and freedom. They made good on what Audre Lorde (1984, 53) called “the erotic as power,” advancing expansive notions of the erotic that include but also transcend sexual desire and expression. Julieta, an abortion rights activist I interviewed, referred to activists’ audacity in “putting desire on the agenda” in the public and political sphere. She situated abortion rights activism in relation to broader LGBTQ+ and feminist movements, observing: “There are few mass social movements that talk about desire—and that are hopeful, let’s say. Most of the time when we’re out on the streets, it’s in a defensive posture.” She asserted that feminism comes to say “This is the future we want. A future that is desiring, unbound; not made of repression and [prudish] morality.” She underscored the need to think globally and with a historical perspective, pointing to the example of the 1969 Stonewall uprisings and its significance for LGBTQ+ and feminist struggles, beyond the United States. As activists also pointed out, more recently Argentina’s powerful feminist activism and symbols resonated and circulated transnationally too, along and in dialogue with other Latin American feminisms (Sutton 2025; Vacarezza 2025).
The rising tide for abortion rights in Argentina around 2018, year of the first parliamentary debate for abortion legalization, included activist bodies decorated with green glitter and protesting with their green kerchiefs in joyful ways (Sutton 2021; Vacarezza 2025). Different generations of activists collaborated with and influenced each other in an activist effort that saw massive numbers of people from all walks of life demonstrate for abortion legalization (Sutton 2020). The abortion rights movement has put forth goals that include sex education, contraceptive access, and legal and safe abortion that is free of charge. While these goals are enshrined in law, implementation has been uneven and directly threatened by the anti-feminist government. Therefore, they continue being part of envisioning a feminist future. Adriana, a feminist activist and socorrista, also pointed out that the goals of the movement are broader: We’re not only thinking about abortion, but about another world possible. So, a movement that performs abortion accompaniment also thinks about other things and produces other content connected to that feminist world we dream of for everyone, with equality, with equal opportunities, but also with a more dignified life for all people.
Feminist Futures, Democracy, and Freedom
Looking at the past is not only about learning from mistakes, but also drawing strength from what worked. The collective memory that change is possible is a countervailing force against shock and paralysis. It also supplies us with tools, strategies, and knowledge that constitute vital resources to envision and work toward feminist futures. These tools are neither to simply replicate nor to romanticize. Yet they remind us that we are not starting from scratch, even in the face of right-wing governments intent on erasing gains, in pretending that feminist movements left no mark. When assailed by despair or hopelessness, we may remember feminist organizing that changed the course of history; we may recall the power of bodies protesting on the streets, and of activist utopias that guided the way toward more just futures.
At the same time, it is important to interrogate who is the “we” imagined on the other side of authoritarianism. This political construction can be ephemeral and conflictive, and feminism is not exempt from reproducing injustice. As activists and scholars have observed long ago, a feminist “we” is not a given, but necessitates careful cultivation of solidarity and grappling with differences and inequalities (Ahmed 2017; Mohanty 2003; Reagon 2000). It also requires a will to work together and productively navigate conflict, and an expansive vision that encompasses multiple realities and aspirations. In Argentina, feminists have been coming together in protest with retirees, health care workers, educators, disability rights activists, and many others harmed by the right-wing governmental agenda. They have coalesced around the idea that “unir las luchas es la tarea” (the task is to unite the struggles), advanced on the occasion of the Ni Una Menos 10th anniversary in 2025. 6 This notion is not meant to homogenize, but to reassert the power of solidarity and collective organizing in the face of governments that are expansive in their destructive impetus, impacting varied sectors of society. Feminist conversations and mobilizations in Argentina have continued, part also of anti-fascist, anti-racist, and LGBTQ+ struggles. They have produced incisive diagnoses of reality while also strategizing, mobilizing, and refusing to back down. They desire and envision more just futures, while also attending to immediate needs.
In that sense, the feminist future that comes to mind is not a world ruled by neoliberalism or authoritarianism. It is not one invested in militarization and dominance, or the rule of markets at the expense of people and the planet. It is also not guided by repressive ideas about the family, sexuality, gender, or nation. It nurtures deep notions of freedom.
Freedom is not the freedom of the market to not care about people’s livelihoods. It is not the freedom of individuals to carry guns that endanger individuals and communities, or the freedom of companies to sell—and states to deploy—weapons of mass destruction that threaten whole populations. It is certainly not the freedom to dump toxic materials into our rivers, mountains, and oceans. And it is not the freedom to censor the knowledge that has empowered marginalized communities. These versions of freedom are embraced by various authoritarian political actors who apparently see no contradiction between championing freedom and restricting the freedom of women, trans, queer, nonbinary, and gender-expansive individuals to make decisions regarding their own bodies, identities, reproduction, sexuality, and life projects. They see no problem in promoting policies that shatter the speech, research, and teaching of those who challenge heteropatriarchal, capitalist, militaristic, and white supremacist systems. Freedom, then, has multiple meanings. But in the way I imagine a feminist future, freedom is linked to expansive notions of democracy and social justice.
In thinking about the future, I am reminded of the words of Spanish poet Antonio Machado (1928, 211): “caminante, no hay camino, se hace camino al andar” (traveler, there’s no path, you make the path as you walk). Yet we do not do it alone, and we do it equipped with the tools and lessons from the past and the innovations from our present. A feminist future, then, is one that includes feminist concepts, organizations, movements, spaces, and initiatives that guide our worldmaking. Feminism is not static or singular or conflict free, and can reinvent itself.
More broadly, a feminist future is built on a democratic and fair foundation, on a vision of democracy beyond electoral politics and closely connected to social justice (Sutton and Vacarezza 2021). A feminist future rests on notions of social solidarity, interdependency, and care. It allows for voice and representation of diverse communities and must challenge intersecting inequalities and injustices. It calls for societies that recognize how we are bound to each other and to the more-than-human world of our environment, and it creates care infrastructures and just systems. These notions may seem utopian; some may call them mere illusions. Nonetheless, the ability to free our imagination and envision the worlds we desire is part of their creation. We can already find these ideas in practice in a multitude of feminist projects. From that perspective, freedom is also integral to imagining feminist futures insofar as it means liberation from systems of oppression. This is what many of our feminist predecessors taught us, and these lessons hold for our present and future.
Footnotes
Author’s Note:
I am indebted to feminist activists in Argentina who over the years taught me about feminist organizing and who, through their daily praxis, continue imagining and creating feminist presents and futures. I am also grateful to my feminist mentors, students, and colleagues in the United States who have helped me develop a feminist imagination and practice. I previously shared some of the remarks included here in my testimonial for the 50th Anniversary of the Center for the Study of Women in Society at the University of Oregon, which also explored the question of “Feminist Futures.” Interviewees cited in the present commentary are identified with pseudonyms and are part of a study conducted with the support of the Faculty Research Award Program (FRAP B) at the University at Albany, SUNY. Thank you, Gender & Society co-editors Patricia Richards and Sharmila Rudrappa, for the valuable feedback provided on this commentary.
Notes
Barbara Sutton is a professor in the Department of Women’s, Gender and Sexuality Studies at the University at Albany, SUNY. She is also affiliated with the Department of Sociology and the Department of Africana, Latin American, Caribbean, and Latinx Studies. Her research has examined body politics, reproductive rights, feminist activism, collective memory, and multiple forms of violence.