The concepts of necropolitics and eugenics share a foundational concern with state and institutional power over who lives and who dies. Achille Mbembe’s formulation of necropolitics describes this sovereign power as the ability to dictate the conditions under which certain populations are allowed to live or are exposed to death. Both frameworks expose how marginalised groups - particularly non-white communities, people with disabilities, queer individuals, and people on lower income - have historically been subjected to systems that devalue their existence.
Historical atrocities are not merely past events but form a continuum with contemporary structural violence. Necropolitics examines systemic exposure to death through capitalism, healthcare inequities, biased incarceration, and environmental racism. From this school of thought, issues like climate change, addiction and poverty aren’t issues, but market opportunities in carbon trading, green(washed) tech, pharmaceutical sales, and perpetual low wages. Eugenics echo in forced sterilisations and forced births, where reproductive autonomy is stripped from mostly non-white and poorer women, who have higher rates of death during childbirth. The exposure extends to homelessness, where the lack of shelter becomes a slow mechanism of attrition, as well as human trafficking, the two situations often co-occurring. Furthermore, conflict zones where civilians are subjected to siege and starvation, and the operations of internment/concentration camps represent some of the most brutal expressions of necropower - where bodies are detained, exploited, or discarded based on racialised, religious, or class-based hierarchies. Necropolitics asks critical questions; whose lives are deemed “worth saving”? And whose deaths are treated as inevitable or even acceptable?
Consider when someone commits suicide due to systemic pressures - why have we often seen this as a personal failing over a societal one? Think of the different qualities of food, water, air, and even education in different places - should we expect some to dodge the Reaper more than others when the cause of illness and illiteracy is indirectly manmade? I personally do not believe we’re asking for too much when wanting basic necessities as a baseline. What about when a culture deems a gender more disposable than another? What about when new resorts, tech cities, and data centres affect local livelihoods? When so-called conservation projects are actually causing the end of Indigenous ethnic groups, as well as their flora and fauna? What about when military contractors and lobbyists prevent lasting peace for profit? How about epigenetic conditions accelerated by colonialism and the industrial revolution? What about psychiatric institutions and care homes that abandon rather than accommodate? What of state sanctioned pogroms through propaganda and dog whistles? And what about corporations intensifying the occurrence of natural disasters, disrupting both lives and ecological systems? Moreover, in the case of destitute areas that have been revamped (minus the gentrification), reducing fatalities that come with crime and poor housing/working conditions; this shows that despite there being enough funding, human life isn’t enough of an incentive for local councils and national governments (within very capitalist societies) to make it a priority. Whether a deliberate conspiracy or “collateral damage”, the interweaving of culture, psychology, and policies can significantly shape how we’re funnelled from womb to tomb.
Death doulas, a global ancient practice, emerging in the modern West presents an intriguing tension. They offer an alternative to medicalised, bureaucratic dying by centring emotional, spiritual, and practical support, particularly for marginalised communities historically harmed by medical institutions. Much like birth doulas, death doulas provide culturally attuned care and advocacy for marginalised populations, addressing gaps left by a healthcare system marked by structural bigotry. Potential progressive aspects include decommodification, where community trained doulas work without payment as a form of mutual aid, advocacy against medical coercion, helping patients resist unwanted treatments when rational, and the revalidation of cultural approaches to dying that were previously dismissed or criminalised. However, significant concerns remain regarding the professionalisation and co-optation of this practice. As death doula services become mainstream and commercialised, there is a risk reducing the practice to a purely marketable service. This mirrors historical colonial patterns where communal practices are stripped of context, whitewashed, and sold back to communities at a higher cost. Unequal access means these services remain expensive and unavailable to many marginalised communities - the very populations whose deaths are most structurally precarious. Without robust funding and decolonial structuring, death doula work risks becoming a luxury commodity for the wealthy.
The tension lies between autonomy and vulnerability. While death doulas promote individual self-determination around known dying, necropolitics reminds us that this is not equally distributed. A person with disabilities (which can be any of us at any time), limited healthcare access, and/or social isolation does not have the same choices about dying as a wealthier, socially connected person. Eugenics still haunts this landscape because of it’s coercive legacy and we must therefor resist preventable institutionalised death, and state control over mortality.
References (including inferred knowledge):
https://www.globaldoulaproject.org/all-journals/the-history-of-death-doulas-part-ii
https://linktr.ee/ravynrosefox
https://www.populismstudies.org/Vocabulary/necropolitics/
https://publichealth.berkeley.edu/articles/spotlight/research/the-legacy-of-eugenics