One finding from our exploratory study of reclassified U.S. deaths (see Chapter 1) suggests that the perpetrators and victims in cases of covertly committed murder are disproportionately more likely to have shared a familial or other close relationship compared to those involved in overtly committed incidents. Indeed, an established relationship with a would-be victim—especially if that relationship includes the assumption of trust—would be an advantage for a covert perpetrator. That is because covert violence often requires the perpetrator to have close access to either the intended victim or to an item that they would not hesitate to ingest or have in close proximity. While most people would be suspicious of food or drink that was left on their porch by an unknown person, they would likely put no thought at all into accepting a cup of coffee from a friend or eating a meal prepared by their spouse.

Related to the apparently higher incidence of covert violence within families and friendships is another finding from our study: that women appear to commit covert acts of violence at far higher rates than is reported in official data on violent crime. This may be explained, in part, because of an inverse relationship between women’s access to power and their access to family members and friends. The family happens to be the one social institution in which U.S. women are disproportionately deficient relative to men in all three types of power that are relevant to covert violence (that is, physical, economic, and personal). Economically, women in paid work still earn less than men on average (Aragao, 2023), and mothers are more likely than fathers to head a single-parent household (Livingston, 2018). These facts combined help to account for women’s higher rate of poverty compared to men (Semega, 2019).

While it may be pure mythology to depict our cave-dwelling masculine ancestors as clubbing their female companions before dragging them off by the hair, the contemporary version of the mythical caveman has its counterpart in reality. It is clear, however, that men’s greater-on-average capacity to physically overpower women is exponentially more dangerous when combined with traditional gender roles that legitimate male aggression and encourage female submission, a dynamic that still exists in many American families today.

Preventing covert violence is perhaps even more difficult than preventing overt forms of criminal behavior. To a large degree, this is because the covert version is often harder to detect and/or is easily misunderstood as something else. Enough cases of presumed accidental deaths subsequently turn out to be murders that we can reasonably assume that many acts of covert violence are either never discovered or never identified as intentional.

Some incidents remain in an indefinite state of uncertainty within the minds of officials. The Pepsi and Tylenol cases in Chapter 4 are perfect examples, as each implicates customers and companies in plots that they may or may not have initiated. Similarly, the 2001 anthrax attacks in the aftermath of 9/11 continue to generate significantly divided opinions among experts and members of the public as to their origins, with some accusing prominent scientists or the 9/11 terrorists and others promoting conspiracy theories that involve images of a deep state within the U.S. federal government. If those infamous incidents were never officially solved, then it would not be surprising to find that many lower-profile cases are missed entirely.

Unlike unsolved cases, in which the action is recognized as malicious even if the identity of the perpetrator is unknown or ambiguous, undetected covert cases produce nothing that appears to need solving. Compared to maliciously inflicted injuries and deaths, those that are deemed accidental, due to natural causes, or self-inflicted generally require much less (if any) investigation and follow-up. And once an official classification has been made, there are virtually no mechanisms in place for routine reconsideration. It often takes years of persistence from a victim’s friend or family member to convince an authority figure to take another look, and frequently that suspicious person must uncover some kind of new evidence before they find anyone who will listen.

There are also practical reasons for not investigating a death when the manner and/or cause appears to be obvious. Determining the exact cause of a death requires available and sufficient funding, as well as other limited resources such as the time and expertise of physicians and/or other scientists.

On July 20, 2006, Adrienne Miranda, of Lutherville, Maryland, received the call that every parent dreads. On the line was her ex-husband, with whom she shared two sons, informing her that their 19-year-old son Joseph was dead. The only information known at that time was that the teenager had been found face down in the dirt after somehow being crushed under a Bobcat earth mover while working at his summer landscaping job. Joseph had recently graduated from high school and planned to attend college to become a landscape architect when his life was cut short. In the ensuing days after the tragedy, questions swirled around what exactly had happened to Joseph. One of the two witnesses at the scene—the Bobcat driver—seemed as confused as anyone, while the other told a shifting story about a supposedly freak accident.

What seems clear is that Joseph had been well liked by the other employees and was quickly climbing the workplace ladder, having already achieved a promotion to foreman at the time of his death. However, such success at a young age sometimes breeds resentment from others—especially those with more work experience or years with the company who have been denied the benefits and/or promotions to which they believe they are entitled—who feel the sting of powerlessness.

In any case, Adrienne never believed that her son’s death was an accident, even though this was the official ruling of every county authority that reviewed the case, including the prosecutor’s office in Carroll County (where the landscaping company was located), the prosecutor’s office and police in Baltimore County (where she and her son lived), and even prosecutors in nearby Frederick County. Nevertheless, the grieving mother vowed to fight as long as it would take to prove that her son was murdered—or to at least convince someone in authority to listen. It took more than five years, but she finally succeeded.

In August 2011, Joseph’s manner of death was officially changed from accident to homicide. Dr. Zubiullah Ali, the assistant medical examiner for Baltimore County who agreed to re-examine the autopsy report, found “no plausible explanation as to why [Joseph] was in a face down position while run over by the Bobcat” (Hermann, 2011), instead concluding that he had been pushed or knocked down into the path of the reversing machine.

Violent crime and sadistic behavior are often featured prominently in Western news and entertainment media. Many of these consumers, particularly in the United States, have become accustomed to reports of deadly school shootings, mass killings in public places like cinemas and shopping malls, and racist attacks inside community centers and houses of worship. Every day in cities and towns around the world, brutal gang warfare and acts of domestic violence tear at the fabric of social life. These types of violence are explicit, shocking, and often sensationalized, spreading fear throughout a community. They have also received plenty of attention from academics, journalists, members of law enforcement, and members of the public with an interest in crime and violent behavior.

Covert violence, on the other hand, is a type of everyday violence that exists deep in the shadows of society. Until now, these acts of murder, mischief, and mayhem have been mostly overlooked in academic and mainstream studies of criminal behavior. They are generally unnoticed by would-be victims, too—that is, until it is too late. Indeed, inconspicuousness is a common feature of these violent acts, and the perpetrators rely on others’ inattention as they plot and prepare before striking surreptitiously and then slinking back under cover.

Most reported violence involves an overt act, or an explicit and aggressive encounter between offender(s) and victim(s). In contrast, property crimes tend to be covert acts in terms of the offenders’ efforts to avoid detection and contact with victims. Most home break-ins occur in unoccupied dwellings, for example, and acts of vandalism are rarely committed in broad daylight. The clandestine aspect of covert violence defies this crime pattern, but its damage is just as devastating and potentially deadly as any other violent event. These acts of violence are committed by perpetrators who avoid drawing attention to themselves by maintaining a low profile and staying far away from the public spotlight. Not unlike many property offenses, covert acts of violence typically remain subterranean. Unlike many school shooters and rampage killers, those who commit covert violence—even deadly violence—are not interested in seeing their name in the news or their picture on the cover of People magazine.

Introduction

This chapter calls for a new direction in green criminology – an ethical veganising of the field. Ethical veganism opposes speciesism and the commodity status of nonhuman animals. Through the lens of ethical veganism, this chapter offers a critical consideration of gendering green criminology by drawing in issues associated with species and with human–nonhuman animal entanglements. I seek to address (the occlusion of) the enormity of nonhuman animals’ victimisation by proposing a veganising of the field of green criminology within the context of a mainstreaming of non-anthropocentric, and preferably non-speciesist, criminology. Although some green criminologists have overlooked or marginalised the position of nonhuman animals, especially nonhuman animals who live outside of what is usually conceived to be ‘the environment’, green criminology can encourage thinking about and alleviating the human exploitation of nonhuman animals within and beyond the bounds of ‘the environment’. As well, criminology that is not ‘green’ has the tools and perspectives to study more effectively harms and crimes to all species, thus shifting away from the largely anthropocentric focus that is currently evident.

To reflect on how to fulfil these goals, where appropriate this chapter draws on lessons from feminist criminological thought and from intersectional analysis. Because the chapter embraces a non-speciesist intersectional approach, speciesism and the place of species within intersectionality and within green criminology are discussed at length. As veganism is the driver for this chapter, there is a section on what constitutes veganism. By employing both intersectionality (Hill Collins and Bilge, 2016) and veganism as forms of critical praxis the chapter concludes with a call to veganise and gender green criminology via activism, with the aim of changing the world for the better (see Belknap, 2015). I begin with a discussion about speciesism and its place within multiple axes of inequalities, inequalities that are at the heart of much criminological theorising and research (Heimer, 2019).

Speciesism, intersectionality and criminology

Although generally marginalised in the social sciences, ‘species is a foundational identifier of difference’ (Hovorka, 2012: 876). Species classifications are based in essentialist assumptions about purported natural and intrinsic properties that are considered to be impervious to change (for discussion see de Vel-Palumbo et al, 2019).

Introduction

There is an implicit deviance in women's activism, exemplified in the popular adage: ‘Well-behaved women seldom make history’ (Ulrich, 2007). This is certainly the case in anti-speciesism work beginning in late-18th and early 19th-century Britain and Europe. Advocacy on behalf of other animals was stealthily adopted by women who played on gender stereotypes such as ‘angels of the home’ and ‘nature's caretakers’ in order to enter the patriarchal public sphere and resist anthroparchal oppression (Unger, 2012). Originally, these campaigns focused on especially male pursuits, such as ‘hunting’ (a euphemism for male violence against other animals) and vivisection. Women's contributions to campaigns, funding and public support were invaluable to early efforts. Yet, as was typical of the time, women were also frequently prevented from leadership positions due to Victorian mores and concerns that the cause might face delegitimisation via feminisation (a fear that persists today) (Groves, 2001).

A small but significant body of research has documented the efforts of women in the nonhuman animal rights movement as founders of leading charities, authors of seminal texts, and community organising and education (Ferguson, 1998; Kean, 1998; Gaarder, 2011; Donald, 2020), but this chapter is interested in the extra-institutional ingenuity of women who eschewed prevailing laws, tactfully adopted the deviant mantle, and advanced anti-speciesist practice and theory through their actions. To achieve this, we highlight the efforts of one notable woman in each of the three waves of Western anti-speciesist activism. Charlotte Despard is offered as a representative of the first wave. This initial wave transpired over the Victorian and early Edwardian eras, emphasising humane education and challenging vivisection head on. Next, Patty Mark is chosen as a representative of the second wave which rose in the mid-20th century, inspired by goals and strategies of the civil rights movement and characterised by increased attention to ‘farmed’ animal welfare. Lastly, we examine Sarah Kistle as a representative of the current wave of nonhuman animal rights activism. This third wave is distinguished by a commitment to veganism, conscious attention to intersectionality, and access to new social media technologies. These three women are not only interesting in their explicit challenge to the legal system to advance nonhuman animal interests; they also demonstrate the deeply entangled nature of oppression in their resistance to speciesist subjugation through explicitly gendered (and sometimes racialised) lenses.

Introduction

This chapter provides commentary on the burdens experienced by men in combating ecological destruction and in particular contesting the pressures and limits of patriarchal capitalism. A central focus is climate change and the responses of men to the challenges and burdens generated by global warming. There are rapid transformations occurring in the social, political and environmental landscape. This is a global process which is experienced differentially within the world's male population depending on social status, economic resources and geographical location. Precisely because material circumstances vary, the responses of men to climate crises likewise varies. Why and how this is the case informs the main discussions in this chapter.

At the heart of the chapter are two central conceptual considerations. The first relates to gender inequality and gender difference; the second to the materiality of masculinity as a lived practice. In relation to the first consideration, there is ample evidence that climate change is not genderneutral. This is demonstrated by its effects on farming. For example, in the least affluent countries, in Africa and elsewhere, 79 per cent of women who are economically active report agriculture as their primary economic activity. Yet, only between 10 and 20 per cent of all landholders are women (UNDP, 2013). Women are especially vulnerable to the consequences of climate change, in part due to the prior disadvantages they suffer generally. For instance, compared with men, women have less access to land, financial services, livestock, social capital and technology. Impoverishment and lower social status weaken the ability of women to be resilient in the face of the burdens associated with climate change. These are compounded by the extra responsibilities associated with caring work for children, the ill and the elderly. Dramatic changes in temperature, climate and seasons exacerbate existing inequalities and hardships (United Nations Women Watch, 2009; UNDP, 2013).

Women who farm in the advanced capitalist countries likewise suffer from the consequences of entrenched gender inequalities. A major outcome of years of drought in Australia, for example, is an increase in women's labour on and off the farms. It is anticipated that with further global warming, the nature of agricultural labour will continue to change, including greater contributions being asked of farming women. Yet, women's labour remains largely taken-for-granted and is largely invisible in relation to policy development and national responses to climate change (Alston et al, 2018).

Introduction

Our ambition for this book is to bring together feminist and green criminology for the first time in a scholarly volume where all contributions are devoted to the project of gendering green criminology. The editorial team is comprised of experts in gender and crime and in green criminology/environmental harm. The idea for the edited collection, and some of the chapters, arose from a conference organised by the editors through the ‘Green Criminology’ and ‘Women, Crime and Criminal Justice’ Networks of the British Society of Criminology. That conference inspired us to expand the discussion and scope of inquiry into the gendering of green criminology.

As a collective of scholars, we cannot help but observe how research in the green criminological field has proliferated. There is a growing body of theoretical thinking and imaginative and robust research arising out of thick descriptive and in-depth narrative accounts, ethnographies and visual methodologies. Much of this newfound knowledge and emerging qualitative data flows from a variety of sources in support of the often distinct, but nevertheless complex, developing picture of the patterns to environmental harms and green crimes and victimisations. The gendered nature of these patterns is especially evident, concerning and often exacerbated by a range of factors. Our starting point – gendering the problems – demands that we properly situate our thinking within a broader intersectional framework where these complex patterns are excavated early in the life of this new direction for green criminology. Consequently, we are confident that this book, Gendering Green Criminology, is a timely publication. Our theoretical perspective thus starts out as feminist and green, and this informs our trilogy of aims. First, while the contents of the volume inevitably present compelling evidence attesting to the gender patterning to, and gendered nature of, green crimes and environmental harms, our aim goes well beyond illustrating these features. Second, we illustrate the gendered impacts of these problems and the gendered nature of harm and victimisation caused and experienced in different contexts and in different parts of the globe. Our ambition extends further so that, third, we examine the gendered nature of resistance and aftermath recovery, thus allowing us to offer an informed critical understanding and appreciation of how to ameliorate the harms currently being experienced.

Introduction

As the effects of climate change continue to grow and become more evident across the globe, it becomes increasingly important to recognise how the effects of the climate disaster affect different groups. While green criminology has created expansive literature examining the differing effects of climate change across different geographies, racial groups and gender, it has so far under-examined the effects on queer people. This under-examination ignores how queer people disproportionately experience climate change and disasters (Goldsmith et al, 2021). This chapter explores the potential and meaning of queering the field of green criminology. Given the lack of connection between queerness and green criminology (in theory or practice) we ask the open-ended question of how should we queer green criminology? The field of green criminology is important for understanding the connections between different forms of marginalisation, disasters and green crimes, but we argue that this inquiry is incomplete without a queer lens.

A queer feminist green criminology should draw on a plethora of fields and methods to strive to understand the experiences of queer peoples in relation to the environment and social harm. The impacts of environmental disasters exacerbate inequality and existing forms of social marginalisation. We draw on the literatures of green criminology, eco-feminism and necropolitics to consider what a queer green criminology could look like. We use zoonotic disease pandemics to model analyses of examples of disasters that uniquely impact queer peoples to support our claims that the state's disregard for queer peoples, especially trans women of colour, constitutes a green crime. To fully understand these green crimes, we argue that green criminology needs a queer lens. The intersectional impacts of environmental disasters are complex and it is imperative that the research is done with intentionality and care. However, up to this point, a gap in the field of green criminology is the lack of attention to the vicimisation of queer peoples.

To model queer feminist green criminology our analyses take a mixed methods approach that relies on statistics, policy analysis and the voices of queer peoples. For example, the narrative by Janet Mock, a trans woman of colour, supports the claims that how queer peoples experience the world and disasters is not only unique but needs to be considered in research and policy.

Introduction

Green criminology is an invitation to rethink how we conceptualise categories of harm and who the offenders or victims are (for example, Agnew, 2012; Sollund, 2017; Brisman and South, 2018). Accepting this invitation is no small feat. Feminist scholars have an established history of outlining the social and environmental repercussions of traditional, Western expressions of masculinities (Carson, 1962; Merchant, 1980; Plumwood, 1993; MacGregor, 2009). In this chapter I will take a cultural criminology approach to examine how masculinity serves to shape cultural understandings of harm while simultaneously justifying harmful activities associated with resource development in the oil and gas industry of the Canadian province of Alberta. I will illustrate how gendered cultural discourses ‘turn elite beliefs and values into common sense perceptions’ (Seiler and Seiler, 2004: 173–4) and foster public support for industrial development that is harmful both socially and environmentally.

Cultural green criminology

I begin this inquiry by considering what differentiates those harms which are criminalised under the law and those which scientific evidence would caution do have the potential to cause significant harm but are not yet criminalised. Cultural dynamics like the distribution of power within society determine the meaning of crime and, therefore, what harms will be criminalised (Ferrell et al, 2015). The distinction between political protest or civil disobedience, for example, is often a fine line. In many cases, scientific research recognises environmental harms that the law fails to capture (Lynch and Stretesky, 2001). In other situations, the law determines what counts as scientific evidence, often to the benefit of state interests (for example, Whitt, 2009). But as with the beginning of every apocalyptic film, the warnings of scientists often go unheeded, with environmental laws reflecting the economic interests that benefit from ecological withdrawals and additions (Stretesky et al, 2014). For example, ecological additions, like pollution, or the withdrawal of resources, are often framed as unfortunate but necessary costs of progress (Brulle and Pellow, 2006; Gould et al, 2008). Of course, this does not mean that environmental harms are never criminalised. After all, significant portions of both bureaucratic and corporate resources are devoted to navigating the immense regulatory processes meant to prevent unrestricted harm to the environment.Yet regulations rarely capture the full extent of harms, making trade-offs that require further scrutiny.

Introduction: Overview of illegal wildlife trade

Illegal wildlife trade (IWT) refers to the unlawful, unregulated and unsustainable catch, trafficking, utilisation, acquisition and extermination of animals or plants in violation of local and international laws, conventions and treaties (Kurland et al, 2017). These crimes constitute considerable business at local, national, regional and global scales, which maximally threaten natural balance, state and individual economic stability, human health and livelihood, as well as protection of natural resources and criminal jurisprudence. According to Elliott (2007), IWT is worth 25 per cent of the global wildlife trade, which significantly poses threat to biodiversity conservation and management. It has also been reported that IWT is worth an estimated US$20 billion annually, without including the unlawful timber trade and unlawful fishing (Barber-Meyer, 2010; Wilson-Wilde, 2010), while Fison (2011) and GFI (2011) reported estimated ranges of US$7.8–10 billion and US$10–20 billion respectively each year. The WWF (2012) observed that the combination of IWT, illegal forest trade, and fishing IWT constitute the fourth largest illegal business after human trafficking, drugs and adulterated goods and products. To provide more insight into the species-specific effect of IWT, the Annual Progress Assessment (2015) reported the depletion of approximately 20 per cent of the African elephant population to 400,000 in the past decades, while 20 wild rhinos were eliminated in one year alone through rustling, according to conservationists’ estimates.

Recently, emerging issues from research have suggested the existence of gender dimensions of wildlife crime, although limited or few empirical studies have emphasised the claim. In contrast, most authors have conceptualised wildlife crime from conservationists’ perspectives (Kareiva and Marvier, 2012), without considering the relevance of crime scientists in examining and determining the multivariate complexities in wildlife crime (cf Moreto, 2015), as well as the gender dimensions of these unlawful acts. Generally, the gender concept entails the sociocultural customs or rules relating to what are appropriate for men and women in any society. These rules or customs about men and women inherently determine the demand and supply of these products, which also underpin the sociocultural values associated with their purported natural attributes or properties (FAO, 2016). In essence, it is more or less a perspective based on stereotyped customary definition or relativist conditioning of male and female roles and responsibilities, as well as their rights and privileges in any society.

Introduction

There have been criticisms that green criminology neglects women's green victimisation (WGV); and feminist criminology has paid little attention to the victimisation of women by green crimes (Lynch, 2018). It is argued that ‘the specific “green victimization experiences” varies across types/groups of victims, as well as across individuals in the same victim group’ (Lynch, 2018: 406). For example, environmental toxins affect children and adults differently. ‘Illustrating the importance of gender, medical studies of toxic exposure also indicate that women are affected differently than men’ (Lynch, 2018: 406). Taking gender inequalities into consideration, feminist green criminology seeks to address this ignorance and offers an understanding of WGV and conceptualises WGV as part of the broader social structure of gender relationships (Lynch, 2018). To understand the nature and extent of victimisation, feminist green criminology provides the needed empathy towards women victims of green crime.

One instance where such an approach may provide valuable insight is in the case of Turkey. Paving the way for transportation of minerals and other extracted sources between Turkey, Russia and Europe, in the Eastern Black Sea (EBS) region of Turkey, the controversial 2,600km ‘Green Road’ is planned to be constructed. The project also aims to connect tourism centres throughout the highlands of the provinces of Artvin, Rize, Trabzon, Giresun, Ordu, Gumushane, Bayburt and Samsun in the EBS region; all previously protected as conservation areas and public land. Environmentalists and people in this region are greatly concerned that the project may have a potentially devastating impact on the environment; local people are under threats of green crime from extractive industries. There are fears that the ‘Green Road’ will cause erosion, forest loss, habitat fragmentation, stream pollution and other ecological destruction. The project also threatens the traditional, seasonal migrations of people who bring their livestock up into the highland pastures to graze each summer (Bayraktar, 2022). These devastating developments cause WGV and put women's livelihoods at risk, ultimately forcibly removing them from their traditional living spaces (Akay, 2020).

Relevant studies in the Turkish context have so far focused only on environmental politics, local opposition movements (Eryılmaz, 2016; Erensu, 2018), climate justice, energy politics (Kaya, 2016; Turhan et al, 2016; Mazlum, 2017; Turhan, 2017), eco-feminism (Seckin, 2016) and other similar issues.

Introduction

The waste management industry has undergone a strong internationalisation process in recent decades. As a result, an export-import flow from countries of the Global North to specific regions and countries of the Global South has been established, which externalises waste management processes and, by extension, the risks and consequences. In many cases, receiving areas are not equipped with appropriate means for handling the waste and protecting both the population and the environment from the severe effects that may be caused by waste pollutants. Thus, despite the efforts of international institutions to prevent those hazards, the transfer of waste from the Global North to certain areas of the Global South still causes great ecological damage and has a major impact on the quality of life and health of the population of the receiving areas.

The international transfer of waste has been extensively studied, especially within the fields of green criminology and green victimology. These disciplines have addressed in depth a wide range of related issues, such as the dynamics of the criminal phenomenon, its relationships with criminal organisations and companies, its consequences from a perspective of ecological justice, social justice and species justice. However, they have overlooked gender.

In general terms, women experience green victimisation differently than men (Lynch, 2018: 408) and victimisation arising from waste crime is not an exception. The way in which waste crime affects women differs from the way in which it affects men for several reasons. First, the social dynamics and gender roles are also reflected in some irregular waste industries, causing different forms of victimisation for men and women. As long as their roles and participation in the waste industries are different, their degree of victimisation also varies. Second, the exposure to pollutants causes different illnesses among men and women. In this sense, the exposure to waste pollutants might have special implications for women's health, especially in terms of reproductive diseases and maternity (Dolk and Vrijheid, 2003; García-Pérez et al, 2015; Kresovich et al, 2019; Melody et al, 2020; Kanner et al, 2021).

The aim of this chapter is to critically analyse waste crime victimisation from a gender perspective in the context of the international waste industry.

Introduction

There is much for social scientists to examine when it comes to the climate emergency. Indeed, it is urgent that more start doing so – including criminologists. Irrespective of official definitions, can there be any crime greater than anthropogenic climate change – continuing to burn fossil fuels and release greenhouse gases into the atmosphere, while being fully aware of the massive harm this is causing to human populations across the globe, and to all life on earth (White, 2018)? Criminologists can use our knowledge of the causes, impacts and prevention of harmful human behaviour – as well as what can obstruct such solutions – to help advance efforts to mitigate and adapt to climate change, and bring about more just responses to it.

Central to this is understanding how global heating is shaped by social inequalities, including gender. It is becoming increasingly widely recognised that the climate crisis is gendered. There is a growing body of multidisciplinary research demonstrating the disproportionate impacts that climate breakdown is having on women and girls, as well as LGBTQ+ communities, in countries across the globe (Pearse, 2017). This is of much relevance to green criminology, as it means that women and girls are being inordinately affected by green crimes, of which climate change is the ultimate example.

There are a number of reasons for this. One of the biggest manifestations of gender inequality is that women, girls and LGBTQ+ groups tend to have fewer socioeconomic resources, which can make it harder to deal with and recover from natural disasters aggravated by global heating (WHO, 2014). They may also not be encouraged to the same extent as men and boys to develop skills which can aid survival in extreme weather events. For instance, research suggests that in countries which have faced extreme flooding, women have often been more likely to die, in part because they have not been taught how to swim (Sultana, 2014). The fact that women are more likely to have caregiving responsibilities can make it harder to escape disasters, as it means they are often left having to take care of others in addition to themselves, such as children or older family members (Pearse, 2017).

Introduction

As Sollund (2020: 520) points out, ‘[w] omen, children and nature are typically positioned in contrast to man and masculinity, which creates the dualistic hierarchy so central to the organization of patriarchal thought and culture’ – and, importantly, also central to the organisation of work and labour. In this chapter we examine how the profit motivation of private corporations and the insatiable demand of Western consumerism for cheap goods result in the oppression of marginalised women in the Global South and a variety of effects leading to environmental damage. Our starting point is that textile production is a globally ‘outsourced’ industry based on manufacturing in the Global South to supply markets of the Global North, creating an industry that is structured in such a way that the local labour laws of hosting countries are either routinely ignored or do not apply to the subcontracted factories operating in special economic/manufacturing zone territories. This situation represents the inextricable linking of structural and slow violence (Galtung, 1969; Nixon, 2011; Davies, 2019) characteristic of the processes of production in the ‘fast fashion’ industry and the incubation of varied forms of disaster that lead to suffering, death and injury. In particular and applying the concepts of poorcide (Udayakumar, 1995) and victimisation, we discuss their impacts on two groups of women factory workers in Bangladesh and Sri Lanka.

The chapter first presents a review of relevant literature, then describes the situation of garment, textile and assembly line workers in Bangladesh and Sri Lanka who work within contexts of unregulated labour conditions and where the effects of resultant disasters and the adverse consequences of environmental damage are disproportionately borne by poor women. In particular, we highlight the negligence and denial that can lead to what Turner (1976) called the ‘incubation of disasters’, in this case the examples of the collapse of the eight-storey Rana Plaza garment factory in April 2013 in Bangladesh and its aftermath, and the three waves of the COVID-19 pandemic affecting global factory workers in Sri Lanka in 2020/21. Linking these cases to the everyday environmental degradation caused by the fashion industry at the lowest rung of global value chains, we demonstrate how women, and the environment, are victims of the structural violence of global production.