Abstract
There is a recent spate of anti-abolitionist publications in the field of punishment and society positing that prison abolition is unrealistic and undesirable, both in research and as a political goal. Rubin (2025), for instance, argues that “normativity” through activist-based logic is replacing theory and corroding explanations of empirical phenomena. While Waquant (2026) argues that calls for the elimination of police and prisons are misguided, instead proposing “penal minimalism.” Among recent work that helps with countering these arguments (e.g. Barker, 2026; Levine, 2025) are two insightful books: Terwiel’s (2025) Prison Abolition for Realists and Herzing and Piché’s (2024) How to Abolish Prisons: Lessons from the Movement Against Imprisonment. Both books position abolition as theory and practice, germane to the realities of lived experiences of violence and the criminal justice system. Rather than rooted solely in morality and normativity, they show abolition can be theoretical and focussed on power relationships as they operate in the real world. The authors treat social movements as vital places of knowledge generation, rather than idealistic or irrelevant to punishment scholarship.
Terwiel’s (2025) Prison Abolition for Realists argues that prison abolition is not a monolith, and can be a realist project, meaning grounded in empirical realities of political life and relevant to political theory. This contrasts with ideal theory, which begins with hypothetical cases to draw insights about problems, and centres morality or philosophical reasoning. Realist abolition means dealing with real world problems, rather than normativity.
Drawing on Bonnie Honig (Honig and Stears, 2011) and Sedgwick (2003), Terwiel distinguishes between paranoid, purist, and agonistic styles of abolitionism, which comprise the first three chapters. Utilising the work of Foucault (1995), Terwiel argues that paranoid abolition advances a critique of institutions of confinement, a politics of negation, but does not offer an alternative vision of justice. Reading the work of Ben-Moshe (2020), Terwiel argues that purist abolition focuses on self-transformation, eliminating carcerality from the self, but can reduce demands on the state. Following the work of Davis (2005), Terwiel argues that agonistic abolition (the realist approach of the three modalities) offers critique and efforts to build new democratic institutions. Agonistic abolition centres real world struggle rather than idealised accounts of justice and democracy, understanding that every solution has tradeoffs. It also rejects the more conservative tendencies of realism and is attentive to struggles against oppression. Terwiel argues that an agonistic approach overcomes limitations of paranoid abolition and holds the most promise for democratic change to carceral systems.
To illustrate, in chapters 4 and 5, Terwiel explores grassroots transformative justice efforts, namely Communities Against Rape and Abuse in Seattle (CARA, 2006). CARA uses collective action such as social pressure to hold people accountable for inflicting harm. She also argues for a “right to comfort” (drawing on Guenther, 2013) to support imprisoned people’s requests for air conditioners in sweltering prisons, showing how institutions, law, and rights claims can be resources for abolitionists responding to issues in the here and now.
Terwiel argues that the state can be reconstructed in service of abolition democracy. She cites counter arguments including the work of Spade (2015) and Anderson (2021) who argue that state is co-constitutive with carcerality and that it has systematically marginalised people and denied them protection. Instead, she argues in favour of Davis’ (2005) work grouped under agonistic abolition, contending that it is both suspicious and hopeful of the state and community, and that it offers a valid account of what is attainable. She notes “[Spade and Anderson] offer different accounts of reality and assessments of what is possible” (102), but ultimately that the historical evidence warrants hopefulness of the state. She claims that certain state institutions and the law can be adapted to act in service of abolition and also notes that they are necessary to both preserve and check community power. Upon reading I was interested in hearing more of the counterargument (e.g. by Spade and Anderson), but overall, the balance and organisation of the book is compelling.
Terwiel’s book is an advancement for its focus on political discourse and challenging narrow conceptions of what political theory is. She draws on Black and feminist approaches (Collins, 1990; Kaba, 2021) which are often grounded in lived experiences, and often marginalised in academia. However, absent in the book is discussion of colonialism, which also underpins carceral states (including the United States (Hernandez, 2017), which is of focus), and the book does not draw on Indigenous approaches.
Read alongside Teriwel’s theoretical book, Herzing and Piché’s (2024) How to Abolish Prisons makes a more grounded companion, focussing predominantly on illustrations of real-world action. They document the grassroots prison abolition movement in Canada and the United States, and discuss initiatives, organisation models, and how members practice abolitionist politics day-to-day. The authors draw on interviews with groups to present several examples of abolitionist work including by Bar None and Rittenhouse in Canada, and the Chicago Community Bond Fund and Justice Now in the United States. In Terwiel’s terms, Herzing and Piché’s work exemplifies a realist example, emphasising accounts of specific organisations building and coordinated campaigns to address current issues around imprisonment. It is agonistic abolition, and drawing on Kaba (2021) the authors marry critique of the state with transformative visions.
This book is organised into eight chapters covering abolitionist objectives, pathways to prison abolition, movement building, getting organised, challenges, and victories. Rather than detached observers presenting idealised imaginaries, the book is authored by scholars with extensive involvement in the movements they document, including Critical Resistance (Herzing) and the Criminalisation and Punishment Education Project (Piché). The authors do not simply document reality but wish to change it. In the summation, Herzing and Piché embrace movement towards a horizon of abolition, acknowledging that there is continual contestation for power and legitimacy. Their work embraces Mathiesen’s (1974) concept of the unfinished, meaning a sense that transformation is never totally finished, that there’s not a complete endpoint. Like Terwiel, Herzing and Piché argue in favour of working towards Davis’ model of abolition democracy.
A key strength of Herzing and Piché’s book is weaving together lessons from different groups across the abolitionist movement in two countries. Lessons include how victories are only possible “through organized, creative, and collective work capable of taking advantage of critical turning points where we show another future is both desirable and possible” (157). The book concretely illustrates abolition as an affirmative project seeking to build different ways of responding to violence. When reading I was interested in more detailed case studies, but the references to multiple examples woven throughout is also valuable. Importantly, the book discusses colonialism which is vital to understanding carcerality in North America. And Herzing and Piché draw on the voices of people practicing abolition politics, including people who have been imprisoned, dispelling the myth that abolition is impractical and only exists in discussions of intellectual elites.
At a time when arguments questioning the utility of abolition have gained fresh attention, these two books provide valuable accounts of the theoretical and practical importance of abolitionist work. Both are advancements in prison abolition literature, critical criminology, and political science, and offer fresh theoretical and applied insights.