Queer Criminology

Carrie L. Buist, Emily Lenning, Carrie Buist

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2015
• Print ISBN: 9781138824362
• eBook ISBN: 9781317580935
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Social Sciences
• Subtopic: Criminology
• Index: Social Sciences

Winner of the 2016 Book Award from the American Society of Criminology, Division of Critical Criminology.

In this book, Carrie L. Buist and Emily Lenning reflect on the origins of Queer Criminology, survey the foundational research and scholarship in this emerging field, and offer suggestions for the future. Covering topics such as the criminalization of queerness; the policing of Queer communities; Queer experiences in the courtroom; and the correctional control of Queer people, Queer Criminology synthesizes the work of criminologists, journalists, legal scholars, non-governmental organizations, and others to illuminate the historical and contemporary context of the Queer experience.

Queer Criminology offers examples of the grave injustices that Queer people face around the world, particularly in places such as Russia, Kyrgyzstan, England, India, Thailand, Nigeria, and the United States. These injustices include, but are not limited to, selective enforcement, coerced confessions, disproportionate sentencing, rape, extortion, denial of due process, forced isolation, corporal punishment, and death. By highlighting a pattern of discriminatory, disproportionate, and abusive treatment of Queer people by the criminal legal system, this book demonstrates the importance of developing a criminology that critiques the heteronormative systems that serve to oppress Queer people around the world.

Buist and Lenning argue that criminology is incomplete without a thorough recognition and understanding of these Queer experiences. Therefore, Queer Criminology is a vital contribution to the growing body of literature exploring the Queer experience, and should be considered a necessary tool for students, scholars, and practitioners alike who are seeking a more just criminal legal system.

1
Queer(ing) criminology

Queer criminology is a theoretical and practical approach that seeks to highlight and draw attention to the stigmatization, the criminalization, and in many ways the rejection of the Queer community, which is to say the LGBTQ (lesbians, gay, bisexual, transgender, and queer) population, as both victims and offenders, by academe and the criminal legal system (see Ball 2014a; Buist & Stone 2014; Groombridge 1998; Peterson & Panfil 2014b, Tomsen 1997; Woods 2014). Although there is no question that persons who identify as part of the Queer community have been included in research samples, “their sexual and/or gender identities are not interrogate[d] as salient characteristics, as these are likely not recognized at all” (Peterson & Panfil 2014b: 3). Thus, queer criminology seeks to both move LGBTQ people, to borrow from bell hooks, from the margins to the center of criminological inquiry, and to investigate and challenge the ways that the criminal legal system has been used as a tool of oppression against Queer people.

Criminological research and the criminal legal system have ignored the experiences of Queer people in any real, substantive way: Except for the focus on sexual proclivities as deviant – a presumption that was posited by early criminologists, such as Cesare Lombroso in the 1800s, and subsequently influenced much of criminological and sociological research on gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, and queer people (Woods 2014). Further, Jordan Blair Woods has posited in the formation of his homosexual deviancy theory that the ways in which Queer people were treated within early criminological theory influenced how “baseless stereotypes and social biases shaped definitions of ‘criminal behavior’ and ‘criminal populations’” (Woods 2015: 133). Woods’s theory consists of two major components, the first component, the deviance-centered element, notes that, until the 1970s, any focus within criminological theory and research that was given to Queer populations was couched within the assumption that Queer people were deviant. He goes on to remind us that, during this time, there were “dominate external legal, political, and societal mechanisms of social control that defined Queer populations as deviants in different ways…criminal anti-sodomy laws, medical conceptions of homosexuality as mental illness, and sociological conceptions of homosexuality as products of failed socialization patterns” (Woods 2015: 133).

The second component of Woods’s (2015) theory contains the invisibility element, which posits that research on Queer people and on sexual orientation and gender identity essentially disappears from the landscape, particularly after the 1970s. According to Woods (2015: 135), this invisibility led to “changing attitudes about sexual deviance” but, regardless of the disappearance or the change in focus about sexual deviance, Woods reminds us that, historically, sexual orientation and/or gender identity have been researched and theorized within a deviancy framework, and, regardless of the changes that have taken place, these historical and cultural presumptions about Queer people and the Queer community continue to influence the ways in which Queer folks are treated in the field.

Woods’s theory draws attention to the historical roots of homophobia within criminology as a discipline, while also bringing to light the present concerns within the field based on the lack of research conducted on Queer people and their experiences within the criminal legal system and within criminology in general. This invisibility breeds complacency within the field and allows us to further ignore the experiences of Queer people. In this book, we offer examples of the plethora of experiences that Queer folks have within the criminal legal system in an effort to bring this population from the margins to the center of focus.

While we offer you a definition of queer criminology, it would be remiss of us to assume that this is the only definition. At the time of this writing, queer criminology is a developing subdiscipline within criminology broadly and, as many believe, critical criminology more specifically. In fact, all of what might characterize the field has not yet come to fruition. Generally speaking, one might say this book is a reflection of where the field is. It is a beginning – reflections on a variety of queer-focused issues in criminological research and theory meant to spark and advance an important conversation. So, while some have demanded that queer criminology have a narrow, rigid definition – we could not disagree more. We believe that the definition of queer criminology should be broad and dynamic and remain so in order to reflect the fluidity of the Queer identity and therefore allow for a variety of contributions both theoretically and via practical application in the field.

Until then, it is important to address the use of Q(q)ueer, which you will note we use throughout this book as an umbrella term to capture lesbians, gays, bisexuals, transgender folks, intersex folks, and any others who fall outside of the heteronormative gender binary. We recognize that not everyone who identifies as lesbian, gay, bisexual, or transgender also identify as Queer. We further recognize that the reasons why some individuals may or may not identify with or simply agree with the use of Queer vary, and that for some, those reasons are deep-seated at the cultural level – often experiencing rejection (although not entirely) by communities of color. In this sense, even language that is meant to be inclusive has the potential to divide, which brings up perhaps the most problematic aspect of queer criminology: Language. The word queer makes some people cringe but others prefer the use of the word as a means of deconstruction and inclusivity. Others still may furrow their brows by the complexity of it all. We want to make clear that we do not use this word to offend or bother – we do this understanding the power of language and how it can be either inclusive or exclusionary. We use it with the intention of the former rather than the latter, and even though we, as mentioned, understand that some may disagree, we want to remind you that the use of the word queer and its general definition have evolved over time. It should be noted that where we have used an acronym (e.g. LGBT) in lieu of queer, it is because the authors and researchers we are citing have used that acronym and we want to accurately reflect their population of focus and respect that they likely have legitimate reasons for focusing on specific identities.

We also offer the word to you for consideration as something that differs from the norm and we would suggest that queer criminology is and can be theory, research, or praxis that falls outside the norms of criminological research. As mentioned, while criminologists have been theorizing about and researching the experiences of the queer community for much of the last century (although the amount of research is still scant and the focus of the research is myopic), it is not “out of the norm” to do so. What is historically out of the norm is to do so from a position of critique – for example, recognizing and highlighting the construction of Queer identities as deviant and criminal, questioning the state’s role in criminalizing sexual orientation and/or gender identity, or exploring the role of the criminal legal system as a mechanism for the social control of Queer identities. A truly queer criminology moves beyond the traditional deviance framework and shifts the spotlight from the rule breakers to the rule makers (see Ball 2014b; Woods 2014).

Language and identity

First and foremost, we must point out that sex and gender are two different things. As indicated by Lenning (2009), sex describes the DNA and sex organs that we are born with, while gender is distinguished by our actions and thus should be recognized as a verb. In other words, gender is a social construction characterized by outward presentation of masculinity, femininity, or anything in between. Sex is a biological fact determined by genetic codes and physical anatomy. Further, neither gender nor sex are inextricably linked to one’s sexual orientation, meaning that your sex or gender does not determine who you are emotionally, relationally, and sexually attracted to.

At this point in history, one can find literally hundreds of words used to describe various sexual and gender identities, and the list continues to grow. Though most commonly used to represent the Queer community, the “LGBT” acronym is simply not representative of all members of the Queer community. As Lenning (2009) found in her study that included 249 transidentified individuals, participants used no less than 23 terms to describe their own gender identity. Even their romantic partners, most of whom were presumably cisgender, used a dozen terms to describe their own gender identity. When asked to identify their sexual orientation, the answers were just as varied. What Lenning (2009) concluded, at least in regards to gender identity, is that, at the very least, researchers need to identify an individual’s gender orientation and gender presentation in order to even begin to understand trans experiences. She notes that “Because our gender is a combination of both our gender orientation and our gender presentation, which are sometimes at odds with one another, sociological research needs to begin considering these dimensions as separate, yet equally important, aspects of our research participant’s identities” (Lenning 2009: 52). Even still, to do so is only to scratch the surface of understanding how dimensions of our gender, let alone our sexuality, affect one’s experiences with and within the criminal legal system.

We must keep in mind that, for some, sexual orientation is not a fixed label or identity, and, therefore, we use what is meant to be more inclusive language in an attempt to promote understanding at both the interpersonal and structural levels. In the most general sense, we reject essentialist attitudes because they fail to fully recognize sexual and gender identity and its fluidity among some Queer individuals, especially trans folk. For example, if someone who was born female and identifies as a lesbian transitions to male yet still chooses romantic relationships with women, is that person still identified as a lesbian or is that person identified as heterosexual? Certainly, the only person who can accurately answer that question would be the person who has experienced this transition. While fairly uncomplicated, this example speaks to the importance of identifying the influence of queer theory on queer criminology – certainly we contend that, if nothing else, some of the central tenets of the theory should be considered when addressing the whys of queer criminology. As noted by Jagose (1996: 3) “queer theory’s debunking of stable sexes, genders, and sexualities develops out of a specifically lesbian and gay reworking of the post structuralist figuring of identity as a constellation of multiple and unstable positions.” Therefore, returning to the example given, while sexual orientation and gender identity may be easily identifiable and definable for some, they are not for others. Further, how an outsider looking in may define or identify another may be wholly inaccurate; therefore, it is important to understand the complexities of categorization. For instance, it is always problematic when we make assumptions regarding one’s sexual orientation or gender identity.

There are, of course, the biological arguments and considerations regarding sexual orientation – which posit that an individual does not choose who they are sexually, emotionally, and relationally attracted to. Conversely, there are the socialization-centered arguments that one’s sexual orientation and/or gender identity are constructed within the formal and informal, cultural, institutional, and structural elements within society that influence one’s personal decisions regarding who they choose to be sexually, emotionally, and relationally attracted to. There are indeed pros and cons to each of these arguments, and, quite frankly, instead of making broad and sweeping generalizations about sexual orientation and/or gender identity, we contend that it does not really matter. What matters is that we do have a significant percentage of the world’s population who identify as gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, and queer, and as individuals and taken together, that community has experienced and continues to experience differential and disproportionately negative experiences within the criminal legal system from all aspects of the system – as offenders, victims, agents, and within academe.

Further, in general, there is no debate over whether or not heterosexual people are born that way or have chosen that identity because we live in a world where heterosexuality is normative and compulsory. We ask those of you who continue to debate the sexual orientation and/or gender identities of others to look inward and think about your own. But more so, we challenge you to understand that, regardless of these debates, what is known, what is a social fact that we are addressing here, is that Queer people continue to have fewer human rights and liberties than heterosexual and gender-conforming people, and that, based solely on sexual orientation and/or gender identity, people continue to face discrimination, harassment, victimization, torture, and even death in the United States and abroad. If for no other reason, this is why there needs to be a queer criminology.

Within a developing field of study, the ongoing debate regarding how a queer criminology should look can be problematic and this will be revisited below after we discuss some of the potential criminological allies within the field today.

Feminist and critical criminology

First, feminist criminology is a critical criminology, but even upon the development of radical and critical criminology in the 1960s, women’s issues were still on the periphery of knowledge. Therefore, we seek to identify some of the specific ways in which feminist criminology, which has developed into a widely used and respected approach to criminological inquiry, and queer criminology are similar. At the core of feminist criminology is a belief that gender is and should be a primary concern of criminological research. Early feminist criminology leaned towards the liberal feminist ideals of inclusion in mainstream criminological research and development of feminist theoretical approaches that included the hotly debated emancipation/liberation theories of Adler (1975) and Simon (1975). These theories posited that greater equality and independence for women would lead to their increased criminality. However, these theories, among others, were problematic – much like the liberal feminist agenda within the women’s movement. Other theories that explored the influence of family structure on girls and boys, such as Hagan, Simpson, and Gillis’s (1987) study, examined power-control theory in the household, which also explored class structure as well. Feminist criminology argued, rightly so, that girls and women were ignored in the existing research but the assumption at the time was that theories that were developed from research conducted on males could yield the same findings for women. This “add women and stir” (Chesney-Lind 1988) approach, as we came to learn, would simply not suffice. Neither will “add Queer and stir” (Ball 2014a) approaches sufficiently explain Queer experiences in the criminal legal system. Different feminist approaches to research would have to be used if we wanted to uncover and highlight the unique experiences of girls and women and the many factors and variables involved in their experiences that could contribute to the offending, the victimization, or the unique experiences as women working in male-dominated fields. Therefore, as we began to see more critical approaches to feminist criminology develop, such as utilizing socialist feminist theory to highlight the problematics associated with capitalism and patriarchy, or Black feminist theory to remind us of the importance of intersectionality, we saw more in-depth research produced. Similarly, we are likely to see queer criminology evolve into a broad range of theoretical and methodological perspectives as it becomes a more complete and established area of criminology.

For example, look at the substantial research that feminist criminologists have contributed to our understanding of the unique factors that impact girls and women differently than boys and men – the feminist pathways approach to research, for example, highlights several pathways that often influence and contribute to female offending such as race, class, history of abuse, drug use, mental illness, and so on. The impact of these factors play a unique role in their experiences within the criminal legal system and attention to the cycle of violence and the impact that victimization has on female offenders are key tenets of the approach (Belknap & Holsinger 1998; Belknap & Holsinger 2006; Brennan, Breitenbach, & Dieterich 2010; Daly 1992; Mallicoat 2015). Queer folks also experience unique pathways to offending that in many ways relate specifically to their sexual orientation and/or gender identity. For example, as the forthcoming chapters will show, as young Queer boys and girls come out to their families, they are often kicked out of their homes by disapproving family members. Queer youth also experience disproportionate levels of bullying in school that can lead to suspension or expulsion. Further, they are more likely to attempt suicide than their heterosexual peers. These experiences can lead to arrest and/or criminal labels and further stigmatization unique to Queer young people.

Again, we understand and agree that feminist criminology is a critical criminology, and as we have highlighted the important overlap between the inception of feminist criminology and the need for queer criminology, it is important to recognize the failures within critical criminology to include women at the onset of the development of the discipline, just as Queer folks have essentially been left out as well. We ask, why hasn’t critical criminology been researching or theorizing or, at the very least, discussing this topic for the last 30-plus years? Why is it that this concept of a queer criminology has just recently (within less than ten years) reached the critical criminological landscape? Certainly, seminal articles on the topic were first published in the late 1990s (Groombridge 1998; Tomsen 1997), but the first time we saw any real attention from critical criminology on the topic was just recently in 2014 when the journal Critical Criminology dedicated a special edition to Queer/ing Criminology. Further, while at the time of this writing we have seen other publications that focus on...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title
• Copyright
• Dedication
• Contents
• Acknowledgments
• Glossary
• 1 Queer(ing) criminology
• 2 Criminalizing queerness
• 3 Queer criminology and law enforcement
• 4 Queer criminology and legal systems
• 5 Queer criminology and corrections
• 6 Future directions in queer criminology
• Postscript
• Index