The first film in my analysis of
Alan J. Pakula’s “Paranoid Trilogy” is the 1970’s sinister surveillance
thriller, Klute. Fueled by the second wave feminist movement, Jane
Fonda’s own activism at the time, and Pakula’s interest in Psychoanalysis, this
is one of the first films of the period, certainly of the genre, to explore the
interiority of women beyond their convention and utility to the story. In turn,
this film both sparked and mirrored a general feeling of mistrust in the
populace that permeated through the decade. This sense of ennui created by this
film was not something Pakula manufactured and injected into the culture.
Instead, because Pakula immaculately frames the story through Bree (Jane
Fonda)’s perspective, it allows the viewers the opportunity to understand the
experience of being a woman in public. Effectively transferring a woman’s fear,
anxiety, unease and sense of powerlessness to the audience. Pakula wanted to
emphasize that, in this film, the ‘Paranoia’ in question might just be the
average Tuesday for a woman. A revelatory concept at the time. The following
brief paper will engage how the burgeoning torrent of social change of the
1970’s became the backdrop of the films production pedestaled by a primordial second
wave that dared to see women outside of the socialized gender roles assigned to
them; while simultaneously ignoring the dangers brought on by institutional
regulation and oversite.
PLOT
Bree
Daniels (Jane Fonda) is an actor and model that is constantly struggling and
trying to get out of a life of prostitution. Yet, the sense of power she gets when
she’s with a “trick” is intoxicating, especially when it is so aggressively
juxtaposed with the sense of powerlessness of being a woman in 1970’s New York.
John Klute (Donald Sutherland) is a private detective that is looking for a
missing person who may or may not have been one of Bree’s former clients. As
the mystery continues to unravel, Bree is sucked back into her old life
completely; complicated by her former Pimp (Roy Scheider) and an unknown
stalker. As she and Klute get closer (to solving the mystery and each other)
Bree must confront her own feelings and the personal embodiment of misogyny
that threatens her.
HISTOTRICAL
CONTEXT
Anomie is the social condition of normlessness that often occurs simultaneously or after periods of immense social change. It is identified and measured by a period of instability that illustrates the dynamism of the social structure as the volatility of social institutions and interaction strain between individuals are in a verdant and often perplexing state of flux after such a calamity (Durkheim 2014)
The
1970’s was a period of transition. This was a time at the tail end of the
second wave feminist movement; much of which was codified by the two most
liberal Supreme Courts the United States has ever had to date. The Warren Court
and The Berger Court were responsible for many of the landmark Civil Rights decisions
in US History:
Under the Warren Court (1953-1969)
·
Brown
v. Board of Education (Struct
down Jim Crow Segregation in Schools)
·
Loving
v. Virginia (allowed
marriage between races based on Privacy)
·
Miranda
v. Arizona (Cops
must make people aware of their rights)
·
Gideon
v. Wainwright (Right
to an appointed attorney if you cannot afford it)
·
Griswold
v. Connecticut
(Allows married couples to access contraceptives)
·
Cooper
V. Aaron (Ruled States
cannot delay desegregation)
·
New York Times v. Sullivan (limits
public official’s ability to sue defamation)
·
Engel
v. Vitale (outlawing
prayer in schools)
·
While
these were not court cases, this Court presided over the passage of landmark
Civil Rights legislation in Congress: The Equal Pay Act of 1963 Civil Rights
Act of 64 and the Voting Rights Act of 1965
Under
the Berger Court (1969-1986)
·
New
York Times v. United States (allowed for the publishing of the Pentagon Papers
about Vietnam)
·
Miller
v. California (Obscene material was protected under the First Amendment)
·
Roe
v. Wade (Women have federal protections for body autonomy (abortions))
·
US
v. Nixon (Executive privilege does not extend to Presidential communication
with advisers)
·
Regents
of the University of California v. Bakke (Upheld Affirmative Action in School
admissions but disallowed racial quotas)
·
While
these were not court cases, this Court did preside over the establishment of
Title XI and the Rehabilitation Act of 1973
These two
liberal courts, in succession, transformed the social and political landscape
for generations. This became a period for socialist principles, of a unity
between marginalized groups. This was a
time of “Sisterhood” where women started to understand solidarity and
similarities with all women, while recognizing their different experiences (Zeilinger
2012).
One example of the “sisterhood”
existence during this time was through The Jane Collective. This was a consortium of women
who counseled women and referred them to underground abortions from 1969 until 1973
when the first legal clinic opened after the Roe decision (Kaplan 2019).
As the demand grew over this time, and the ability to outsource the underground
abortions safely became more tenuous, The Jane Collective became medically
trained to perform the procedure themselves. They only charged cost (on the
necessary medical supplies) and no one was ever turned away for their inability
to pay (Kaplan 2019). They understood that women’s body autonomy was a moral
right, regardless of the archaic laws that governed them.[1]
The
seeds of this intersectionality would come to embody the social justice
movements in the future. While there was/is resistance to this change as these
issues got codified into law during the 60’s and 70’s, people slowly started to
adopt these more justice-minded principles publicly. It wasn’t that many of
these people started to believe differently, they just did not want to be
sanctioned for beliefs that have since become taboo at large. This contributed
to the movement of discrimination and oppression from the overt language and
institutional regulation into a more covert form of influence and control;
while establishing reliable scapegoats regardless of their support for the
policies behaviors and decisions of oppressors. This is because, regardless of
truth, everyone tries to revise their morality publicly to always be on “the
right side of history. We see this whenever a White Politician from a southern
state invokes Martin Luther King Jr. by poorly paraphrasing the one quote that
every Racist Republican leader references to elevate them beyond their racism
in the eyes of the general-public[2]. A practice which uses Dr.
King as a deflective prop rather than revered as a whole person. To be clear, it’s not that these ideas have
finally reached individuals that have been socialized to steep in various forms
of vitriolic values and won them over. These individuals instead saw a culture
shift and did not want to be ridiculed, ostracized or lose power. Therefore,
they fain a social justice mindset. As El
Akkad (2025) astutely states: “One day everyone will have always been against
this”
The
1970’s was a decade chalk full of transitions; from civil rights the end of the Vietnam war, and a rash of serial killers to a string of high profile assassinations. The US was at a proverbial
crossroads between becoming more democratically socialist or pivoting into
greater authoritarian control through an embrace of Western Free market
Capitalism. Nowhere was this existential intersection epitomized more than the
1980 Presidential election; in which President Jimmy Carter was challenged by
Ronald Reagan. Carter, the democratic incumbent, was beset by an energy crisis, the Iran hostage crisis, and falling poll numbers. Yet, in
a series of speeches, he implored the American public to think beyond
themselves. To think of the environment, about consumption and the morality of the
nation. This culminated in Carter’s
famous/infamous speech about:
In a nation that was
proud of hard work, strong families, close-knit communities, and our faith in
God, too many of us now tend to worship self-indulgence and consumption.
Human identity is no longer defined by what one does, but by what one owns. But
we've discovered that owning things and consuming things does not satisfy our
longing for meaning. We've learned that piling up material goods cannot fill
the emptiness of lives which have no confidence or purpose.
The symptoms of this
crisis of the American spirit are all around us. For the first time in the
history of our country a majority of our people believe that the next five
years will be worse than the past five years. Two-thirds of our people do not
even vote. The productivity of American workers is actually dropping, and the
willingness of Americans to save for the future has fallen below that of all
other people in the Western world.
As you know, there is a
growing disrespect for government and for churches and for schools, the news
media, and other institutions. This is not a message of happiness or
reassurance, but it is the truth and it is a warning.
These changes did
not happen overnight. They've come upon us gradually over the last generation,
years that were filled with shocks and tragedy.
We were sure that
ours was a nation of the ballot, not the bullet, until the murders of John
Kennedy and Robert Kennedy and Martin Luther King Jr. We
were taught that our armies were always invincible and our causes were always
just, only to suffer the agony of Vietnam. We respected the presidency as a
place of honor until the shock of Watergate.
Much like C.
Wright Mills (1959), that saw that the personal is also political, pushing
ourselves beyond our everyday understanding into something broader: a
collective, interconnected symbiosis; so too does Carter beg his constituents
to see beyond their Millsian “private orbits” of work, family, and their
neighborhood. To look into the good of all people. Yet, this allowed his
challenger Reagan to position himself to the exact opposite massage. Hence, Reagan promoted more
spending, smaller government and an appeal to the “greatness” of the American
people.
Reagan’s message was attractive to the
American voters; with the perfect blend of nationalist/egoistic pride and
inaction. President Carter was painting a picture of America in the beginnings
of a long uphill battle to get us back to where we were as a nation. Meanwhile,
his challenger was saying “We can Make America Great Again” if we continue with the status
quo without any reflection. These were two fundamentally and diametrically
opposed views of our society. In the end, we took the easier, low road,
believing that the American Experiment was thriving. Reagan, for his part,
paved the way to our current (but not inevitable) ruin that culminated with
Donald Trump and his bacchanal of bastards. After four decades of pro
capitalist economic policies and anti-socialist deregulation Carter’s calls of “crisis” now seem
prophetic in
hindsight.
The
Role of Hollywood and Klute’s Production
This transition period of the 1970’s was
fueled by a noticeable shift in culpability, causing a perspective shift from
the personal to the institutional. After the Watergate Scandal and the Nixon
pardon, people were wary about trusting their government and were
more likely to believe in conspiracies. This distrust was capitalized on by
Hollywood and furthered this mis/distrust through the decade. While the
popularity of Pakula’s Trilogy was the anchor of this shaping of the public
perception towards paranoia, it was furthered along by other films at the time:
Three Days of the Condor, The Conversation, Network, The China Syndrome. Like
Pakula’s 70’s work, these films continued to sew doubt and erode trust in
government institutions. Cover-ups, conspiracies, propagandic brain washing, and
mass surveillance all became popular storytelling devices that fed on the
growing uncertainty of the time due to such rapid and drastic social
changes.
With
Klute, Pakula not only created one of the seminal New York films of the
1970’s (representing perfectly the city as it was in the decade)
but provided a glimpse into the interior life of women that no thriller up to
that point had done before (Harris 2019). This was not the original intention
of the film. Based on the conventions of the genre, Pakula originally wanted to
explore the titular character more deeply. But as they were pairing down the
film to shooting length, the story was found in the tidal pull between Bree’s internal
struggles with her desires and the way the rest of society frames her.
The
film challenged the popular perception of the depravity of sex work. There is a
grace by which Pakula presents and depicts sex work that both is realist in the
kinds of individuals surround such a profession, but at the same time, succeeds
in not demonizing the practice or participants. It was one of first times that
this humanization was seen on camera. While it does not come right out and
state that “sex work is work” and should be legitimated, the centering of Bree
in the narrative and her richly complex admissions and discussions with her
therapist infer as much (Harris 2019).
Harris
(2019): Continues:
“In ‘Klute’, therapy is
used not to break Bree down, but to give her an opportunity to plumb her own
mind, and as we watch her musing, reconsidering, overriding herself, always
thinking, the movie dips into verité in ways in which there was very little
precedent in a genre film.”
Pakula and
Fonda independently discussed the difficulty of shooting the therapy scenes.
There was always a discussion of what Bree would share with her therapist and
how much the therapist would both know and be willing to push back against her
in those sessions. In one take, Fonda as Bree, met the hostility of the
Therapist with cool, emotionless control. Because, according to Fonda, “Overt
hostility is the easiest thing in the world for Bree Daniels to deal with. She
deals with it every day of her life. It makes her relax, because she knows
where she is at.” (Milne 1972:23). Because Pakula always encouraged actors to
share their ideas, he recognized Fonda’s complete embodiment and went a
different direction to make Bree more vulnerable in that moment. Instead of
meeting Bree with hostility, Pakula had the character of the Therapist catch
her off guard with a question “Do you feel I failed you?” she asks.
Instinctually, Fonda responded with “No, I feel I’ve failed you.” Giving us the
first glimpse of the internalization of female gender norms, that women define
themselves by their value to other people in their lives (more on this in
Social Analysis).
The film’s cinematography, photographed by
legend and frequent Pakula collaborator, Gordon Willis. Willis focused on
creating a sense of imbalance and claustrophobia. To achieve this, he refused
to shoot many establishing shots and almost no wide shots; often cutting into
the middle of scenes from other scenes to add to the ratcheting tension,
purposefully not letting the audience breathe, to fully put them in Bree
experience. While general wide shots exist in the film, one singular use of
them stands out at the beginning of the film. When we are first introduced to
Bree it is in a wide shot. She is sitting in a waiting area at a model agency to
possibly be selected for a commercial. Wills decided to photograph this scene widely
with a long lens; making Bree almost faceless among the other exclusively white
female models. Even though the scene is interspersed with close-ups of the
models, we never see the face of the director or producers that are critiquing
them; furthering that sense of alienation. We watch the models sense of hope
rise and fall as they are passed over with increasing apathy through
disaffected comments like “Too Pretty” and “Seen her Before”. When we get to
Bree, they dismiss her with “Funny Hands.” Once they get to the end of the row,
Willis goes back to a wide shot. The producer thanks them and they all stand
up, shuffle out to the right of the screen (their left) and behind them comes
in a difference crop of now Black female models. The illustration of
powerlessness in this scene sets the tone for the film and solidifies it as one
of the major themes of the picture.
SOCIAL
ANALYSIS
As Klute positioned itself as a mirror and cultural
reproduction of the 1970’s, it also embodied a lot of social themes that were impossible
to disentangle from the decade itself. Chiefly, the “Second Wave” Feminist
movement, that saw independence in terms of access to abortion, birth control,
contraceptives and job opportunities leading to a higher rate of divorce as
more women achieved independent economic stability. White women specifically believing
that there was something beyond the gender roles in which they had been
conscripted. Meanwhile, Black women carved
out space for themselves that wasn’t provided to them by the movement. The
language of the movement was only inclusive to white women, and affirmative
action policies disproportionally benefit white women in practice (Kendall
2020).
Gender Socialization and the
legitimacy of sex work.
While
Bree is portrayed by a white woman in Klute, her penchant for sex work
taints her whiteness through the Madonna/Whore complex. The
Madonna /Whore Complex is a feminist analysis of gender socialization
directed at girls and women regarding sexual identity and expression. In this
binary, women are required to be the (biblical) Madonna- chaste, pure. Thereby,
under this archaic notion, women’s morality is tied to her virginity; and if the
woman does have sex, even in committed relationships, there is a likelihood
that she will be labeled a “whore” which defined as a fallen, defiled, and impure
woman. This clear Christian supremacy is the lens through which women and their
bodies are being controlled. Yet, whereas white women have the opportunity of
the assumption of outright purity until it is “lost” through what is perceived
and projected to be immoral acts, women of color have never given the same “benefit”.
They have always been associated negatively through this religious lens as temptations
and the work of “The devil”. The thematic through line being the overall fear
of female sexual agency.
The
paradox of female gender socialization lies in its overall hypocrisy. Women are
given the message since they were girls that their value is in their bodies;
both as a sexual object to be possessed by men, or as a vessel for the next
generation. Their bodies become currency. However, if women trade on that
currency for their own financial or social gain, they are oppressed and ostracized
either as a part of the Madonna/Whore binary or something equally
reprehensible. This illustrates that the issue is not about the value of
women’s bodies per se, but women’s agency to control those bodies. Independence
of women scares the patriarchy because of the way it threatens the fundamental
functions of its operation. They have conditioned men to be dependent on women that
society has socially supplied them through these socialization processes. If
women are allowed to be removed from that economic and social equation, Patriarchy’s
power begins to crumble.
Klute
was one of the
first films to not villainize the sex worker as a hedonistically hell-bound harlot.
Pakula’s direction and Fonda’s performance provide Bree with humanity beyond
her profession. This was a giant leap forward and speaks to the feminist
revolutionary spirit in the culture with which the film was made. Similarly, the
film uses Bree to make a commentary about power. Bree is threatening to the
Patriarchy because she knows how to commodify and weaponize her body (as
society has taught her) for her own social and financial gain. In one of the
first therapy sessions, the audience hears Bree confess the rush of power she
feels when she is on a “trick”. That she has agency and control over her body,
her time, and the situation. The film makes clear that this is a feeling of power
through autonomy making that more difficult to give up than just the act of sex
alone.
However,
the film does couch the fullness of this identity by showing that Bree is also
the victim of abuse (both as a child and an adult); implying that it was this
damage that contributed to the decision to engage in prostitution (another
tired trope). Thereby implying, but close to directly stating, that if she were
well adjusted, she would not have chosen to sell her body. This is also fueled
by the presence of John Klute (Donald Sutherland) that represents a way out of
this life; stability and normalcy that Bree should desire. The
dialogue toward the end of the film, and its ambiguous ending, suggest that
Bree will self-sabotage her relationship with Klute, and thus be perceived as a
failure.
As
women have achieved more agency, since the 1970’s, the patriarchal system has
had to get creative. The taboo and critique of women through the Madonna/Whore
binary is still in place. But in the 2020’s, women are expected to be both
simultaneously. Pressured to have desired aspects of both categories while
still performing these aspects in the service of men and the general patriarchy.
While it is more widely accepted that sex work is work, today, there is still the
commodification of women’s bodies for profit in which women are both being
exploited and being active participants in that exploitation’s reproduction. Thus,
more agency women have achieved over their bodies, the more the patriarchal
system monetizes it for its own consumeristic benefit. Through that
objectification, women are stripped of the value of that agency.
The
Catharisis and Containment of Female Rage
An
undercurrent in the film that is only indirectly addressed.
Is Bree’s justifiable rage for being swept up in Klute’s investigation. Both
the “hero” and “villain” of the story surveillance her, become emotionally
compromised by her, and obsess over her. They also make Bree feel powerless in similarly
distinct ways, albeit with the opposite intent. Cable achieves this through
direct threats, intimidation, and fear; Klute through emotional intimacy.
Regardless of the ladder’s positive context, it is a form surrendering; a
relinquishing of power that makes Bree uncomfortable, and ultimately full of
rage.
According
to Rebecca Traister (2018), female rage is a revolutionary act. But recognizes
that anger is socialized to be an asset for men and an albatross for women. If
women’s anger is legitimized, which it is often not, it must be deployed sparingly
and with precision, lest they summarily dismissed at best or dehumanized,
violenced and violated at worst. Unfortunately, the validation of women’s anger
usually comes at the cost of their silencing through victimization. And even
then, it often plays out that male advocates speak on women’s behalf; embodying
the role of anger translator for the masses while effectively stealing their
voices rather than giving them space to speak for themselves. Yet, more women are
willing to speak determined to not be distracted or deflected from their duty.
Their rage can be a catalyst; even if they must shape their anger into a form
that is more plateable than the direct form of rage that men benefit from.
As
Traister (2018) Concludes:
“Being mad is
correct. Being mad is American; being mad can be joyful and productive and
connective [Women] don’t ever let them talk you out of being mad again.
Unfortunately, Klute does not frame
this rage as a healthy expression of Bree’s loss of power. Instead, it has Bree
move from the powerlessness of victimhood (with Cable) to the powerlessness of gender
bound heterosexual monogamy (with Klute). The film posits that she is too broken
to be able to sustain a “normal” relationship with Klute which is reinforced by its
ambiguous ending. We are left unsure where Bree will end up, but it is implied
that if she does return to that doctor’s office, we are supposed to feel like it
is a failure. That Bree, retaining agency and anger, while not being swept up
and rescued from her life, like a damsel, is wrong. A cautionary tale. For all
the ways that the film inches toward progressive themes, there is still this
lingering thread of when a woman chooses anger and empowerment, it is perceived
as a character flaw. This is another example of the way that women’s anger is
dismissed, discouraged and discounted (Traister 2018).
Seeding
a Critique of Surveillance
Surveillance is the process by which
individuals are consistently tracked and observed through various physical or
non-physical means by individuals, organizations, companies, and institutions, often
for the creation and maintenance of social control. The assumption of permanent
visibility is important for the automatic functioning of power. Therefore, the
knowledge of being watched leads to self-regulation. We see this any time we see
police parked near a freeway, or black domes in convenience stores. We don’t
know if anyone is in there or if they are watching but the possibility causes
us to self-regulate. However, this is just the feeling, or perception of being
watched rather than always being watched. In this example, the threat of force
is always more effective than the actual force (Foucault 1977).
According
to Foucault (1977)
“Penopticism [as] a
disciplinary mechanism…must improve the mechanism of power by making it
lighter, more rapid, more effective, a design of subtle coercion for the
society to come… [Therefore] the spread of disciplinary institutions…testifies
to this.” (p 209)
What
Foucault means here, is that the way that our social structure is organized,
allows for a subtle form of social control through the assumption of constant
surveillance we assume we are being watched therefore we follow the
rules…However, due to technology, that threat is even more plausible.
The
Data mining process has increased exponentially. Programs like Upstream, Prism
and XKeyscore and the growing dependence on algorithmic software (AI) allow
companies to data-mine from fiber cables and infrastructure (as the data flows
past) (Upstream) and by collecting directly from the servers of US internet
providers and social media companies (Prism) Keyscore is international. This is what is called Dragnet Surveillance
looking at all of the data to find suspected criminals/terrorists without a
warrant
Corporations and
Governments begin colluding to compile and Profit from
“Metadata” beginning Surveillance Capitalism – where the Users, and info
about them, are the product. (Zuboff
2019)
Also,
due to the way that we use and consume social media, much of this data mining
is very easy to do. Our tweets, Facebook posts, Snapchat swipes, Instagram
pins, can all be subject to search by the government, and since the program
they use is connected to private sector companies (Palantir), that information is then sold to
other companies. Along with this, private companies work in
conjunction with law enforcement agencies to violate sovereign privacy laws (especially those of women).
The
crux of Pakula’s Paranoid Trilogy is the danger and abuse of surveillance. In Klute,
it is at its most intimately focused; looking at one person’s experience
with the stalking obsession of others. This surveillance is a constant in Bree’s
life for just being a woman in public. Like the millions of women before and
after her, the general street harassment of women is commonplace; perceived as
part of the female tax for their existence. The price that women pay to live in
a society. However, Bree’s experience is more defined than the general misogyny
inherent in the ideal of a public’s ownership of women’s bodies. As mentioned
above, Bree gets surveilanced without her consent by both the protagonist hero
(Klute) and by the antagonist (Cable). Yet, in a very patriarchal framing,
Klute’s surveillance is justified through tired gender scripts that are structured
to absolve him. His is a benevolent surveillance under the auspices of
paternalistic protectionism. Pointedly, Cable’s
surveillance is not criminalized because of a lack of Bree’s agency, it is only
in the overall violence and unease that he creates while engaging in it. The
act of surveillance itself is framed as benign- which becomes a tacit
endorsement of the practice.
CONCLUSION
The first film in the “Paranoid
Trilogy” is a film that embodies the torrential spirit of the 1970’s social
change. Making Bree the center of a political thriller without her being relegated
to a secondary character who is damseled was unique at the time. Pakula’s
interest in Psychology also allowed for Bree to have an interiority that gave
the audience a window into the mind and experiences of women. Bree’s treatise on
the reclamation of power through sex work: that it acts as a buffer from the
sense of powerlessness brough on by cultural womanhood, is an important sex
positive feminist message that was just starting to crystalize in the culture;
even if the film makes Bree feel powerless through parts of it for the purpose
of (unearned) punishment[3]. Pakula also falls into some gender and class
tropes reinforcing the objectification of women and an obfuscation of women’s
anger. This provides an overall mixed message as to the value of women and
their ability to have agency and autonomy over their own lives.
REFERENCES
Durheim, Emile 2014. The Division
of Labor in Society. New York: Free Press
El Akkad, Omar 2025. One Day,
Everyone Will Have Always Been Against This. Toronto. Knopf
Foucault, Michel 1977. Discipline
and Punish: The Birth of the Prison New York: Vintage Books
Harris, Mark 2019. “Klute:
Trying to See Her.” In Current. Retrieved on 9/3/26 Retrieved at https://www.criterion.com/current/posts/6492-klute-trying-to-see-her?srsltid=AfmBOop10WWTISoYIudCsH868T8q8_wam2vAjZ0PtgOVBx2Z8QSQs-81
Kaplan, Laura 2019. The Story of
Jane: The Legendary Underground Feminist Abortion Service New York: Vintage
Books
Kendall, Mikki 2020. Hood Feminism: Notes From the Women a Movement
Forgot New York: Viking
Milne, Tom 1972. “She’s Nowhere: A
Conversation with Alan J. Pakula” in Sight and Sound Retrieved on: 9/3/26 Retrieved at: http://www.filmreference.com/Directors-Mi-Pe/Pakula-Alan-J.html
Traister, Rebecca 2018. Good and
Mad: The Revolutionary Power of Women’s Anger New York: Simon and Schuster
Zeilinger, Julie 2012. A Little
F’DUP: Why Feminism is not a Dirty Word New York: Seal Press
Zuboff, Shoshana 2019. The Age
of Surveillance Capitalism: The Fight for the Human Future at the New Frontier
of Power New York: Public Affairs
[1]
After the Dobbs decision removing federal protections for the body rights of
women. The Documentary “The
Janes” and the feature film “ Call Jane” opened to critical
acclaim no doubt due to cultural relevance and likely resurgence of the need of
safe underground abortions again.
[2] “
To judge a man not by the color of their skin but by the content of their
character.” MLK
[3] A
pop culture Tax for being a prostitute.
