100 Books Like Gyn/Ecology

This book gripped me with a host of difficult questions and sorrowful insights into women’s health, racism, science, and medical systems in the USA. It reveals the impact of a previously unknown woman, Henrietta Lacks, who died in 1951, and whose cervical cancer cells were taken without her consent, and then, without any acknowledgement, used by researchers and laboratories to develop numerous treatments, drugs, and experiments.

It made me confront hard questions about class, race, gender, medical ethics, profit, and confidentiality. It is a brutal and detailed read, enhanced by the involvement of her family story, as they later discovered the theft and were to confront her immortality. A must-read by a plucky author. 

This book takes you inside the tactics of the British Suffragettes in such vivid detail that I had to wonder what role I would have played on that issue, time, and place? The question is real for me as the movement began in Manchester, where I was born, and it is highly likely that some of the activists are distantly related.

The details of the risks taken by thousands of women, the suffering endured in prolonged hunger strikes, and deaths in protests are breathtaking and inspiring for any activists facing political and judicial oppression today. I certainly would have worked for this cause and taken to the streets. But I still wonder–would I have gone on a hunger strike in a prison for days or weeks or months on end? This book put me in Britain 120 years ago, fighting for the vote, but made me reflect on… show more.

This book takes you on a long tour through a pivotal decade in the emergence of the second wave of feminism in the United States of America via oral history, detailing actions, bios, and anecdotes of key figures. For the first time, I heard the ‘behind the scenes’ dynamics, interpersonal links, and public and private differences between many familiar figures such as Gloria Steinem, Betty Friedan, Shirley Chisolm, and many, many other not-so-well-known but leading feminists.

This is a gripping account of determination, leading thinking, differences of opinion, and risky activism in the USA in a tricky decade for women, which had a profound effect on how second-wave feminism developed not only in America, but globally. I was gripped.

This book artfully introduces the real and important backstory of Lorraine Hansberry, whom I had previously known only as the author of A Raisin In The Sun, a play about a Black middle-class family in Chicago. I was surprised, impressed, and thoroughly educated about Lorraine–a lesbian, Black, radical feminist and socialist, who died of cancer at the age of 34 in 1965.

I was amazed to learn about her ideas, her courage, her ability to maintain a simultaneous activist preoccupation with race, gender, and class throughout her life, and her tight three-party friendship with James Baldwin and Nina Simone. I had an intriguing, intimate, and important view of a world of 1960s USA Black intellectual and activist life, opened up wide for me by a talented author. 

This is hands down the best book on transnational feminism that I’ve ever read!

I have recommended this book to so many people that I’m planning on hosting a book club. Zakaria opens the book with her own experience attending a happy hour with a group of white women that ends on a particularly awkward note.

Zakaria is not only challenging white feminists, but she is also calling out all people who subscribe to white feminism and how it does more harm than good. What is white feminism you ask? Pick up this book and let Zakaria tell you. 

Smith is generally considered as the father of economics, laying its foundations in the eighteenth century.

But he can also be an inspiration for rethinking economics (providing more realistic assumptions about human conduct) and laboratory experiments in the twenty-first century, helping us to build a new “Humanomics” (see also McCloskey’s two books on this subject). That’s what Vernon Smith (Nobel Prize in Economics in 2002) and Bart Wilson convincingly argue for in their uncommon and innovative book. Smith is still alive (and well alive) today. 

There is so much understandable suspicion about how organisations use or misuse your personal data that it's hard to see the many potential benefits of data sharing. This book restores a little faith in technology and those who develop it for public benefit.

It is a compelling read, learning how data can be used for good and bad, with many references to the author’s personal journey, from working in customer services to being an internet entrepreneur before becoming a researcher.

This book challenged my thinking about the implications of compassion taking a decisive role in policy.

Not undermining the import of compassion or empathy, it reveals how these moral sentiments are taking precedence over formal rights in decisions about asylum for refugees, aid, access to health or mental health care, and even justifying a military action.

Under the emergent logic of humanitarian reason, structural inequities and violence are easily rendered invisible as the most poignantly shaped public narratives of suffering gain sway over historical conditions of structural injustice and dominance. Fassin draws upon fieldwork in South Africa, Venezuela, Palestine, and Iraq, as well as policy in France, showing how the logic of humanitarian reason can abandon those who are positioned in the most precarious conditions.

We often think about intervention as questions of states intervening against other states, violating their legitimate sovereign claims.

This book complicates this picture. It focuses on less violent and risky types of intervention, by a variety of actors, showing how intervention can vary in how much it opposes institutions and how coercive it is.

One example Rafanelli gives is of Tostan (an international NGO that runs community empowerment programs in Western Africa) that works against practices such as female genital cutting and child marriage.

This significantly complicates the simplistic picture of intervention, often proposed by those wanting to reject measures to tackle human rights abuses. Such forms of intervention might be required to help protect democracy globally.

In this beautifully written study of Lincoln’s pre-presidential years, the political ethicist William Lee Miller, a warm and generous friend as well as a gifted scholar, argued that to “appraise Lincoln fairly” one “should not compare him to unattached abolitionists in Massachusetts or to anyone a century and a half later” but rather to “other engaged politicians in the Old Northwest in the 1850s,” who were far more skeptical about racial equality than Lincoln was.

Miller observed that Lincoln was consistently “cordial and welcoming in his treatment of individual African-Americans,” but that he was more than that. In Miller’s words, Lincoln’s interaction with those Blacks demonstrated “a racially inclusive egalitarianism.” Miller’s companion volume, President Lincoln: The Duty of a Statesman is an equally insightful examination of Lincoln’s presidential years.