96 books like Eve

The most significant contribution to activism and scholarship on abortion in recent years has come from the Reproductive Justice movement.

This movement asks us to see different reproductive activities on a spectrum: many people will need contraception, abortion, prenatal care, maternity care, and childcare across the course of their lives. And Reproductive Justice demands the right to end a pregnancy as well as to bear and raise a child in a safe environment.

Loretta Ross is a founder of the RJ movement, and with her co-author, historian Rickie Solinger, they map out key moments in the historical development of the movement and its key principles. The book offers an intersectional analysis, bringing race and class inequalities to the forefront of its narrative. 

Hartmann’s book is a classic and is in its third edition.

This is an essential reading for anyone who cares about feminist politics and abortion rights because it provides a global historical context. Laws and attitudes on reproductive rights differ dramatically across the world – where one country might restrict abortion and contraception, another country might grant easy access to contraception and abortion.

This book shows the dark history of global population control efforts that used abortion and contraception to attempt to lower birthrates in poor countries. She reminds us that, across the world, governments and other organizations have used heavy-handed tactics to force contraception and abortion on some people, especially in countries where there are worries about overpopulation.

Hartmann’s book warns against focusing too narrowly on the right to end a pregnancy, without focusing enough attention on the right to bear children too.

Dying to Count offers the very best of academic writing: the book makes a complex but persuasive argument, based on richly detailed fieldwork in Senegal. It shows the human consequences of anti-abortion laws, but it moves well beyond describing the experiences of women seeking abortion or the dilemmas of their doctors.

Women experiencing spontaneous miscarriage often have the same symptoms as women with complications from illegal abortions, and they often need the same medical treatment. So where abortion is illegal, Suh shows, classifying an abortion as a miscarriage can give women access to essential medical treatment. However, it can also freeze bad laws and policies in place, dampening efforts to legalize safe abortion.

Suh’s book shows how the best social science analysis can illuminate a subject in so many ways – from stories of individual patients in Senegalese hospitals, testimony from doctors and health workers, analysis of national and international… show more.

Today, struggles for abortion access are usually focused on legislatures and courts. These can seem like the only avenues for achieving change.

Yet Seizing the Means of Reproduction gives us an alternative picture of reproductive health and abortion politics, by exploring the history of the women’s health movement in the USA during the 1970s and 1980s.

Activists in this movement saw doctors and hospitals as powerful male-dominated institutions that exerted too much power over women’s bodies. In response, the activists developed new models for practicing reproductive health to give people power over their own bodies and reproductive activities. Self-managed abortion was one important part of their work, and Murphy’s book explores this history in lively detail.

The activists in Murphy’s narrative built their own self-help groups and resources outside of mainstream medical institutions, deliberately, because they saw this as the pathway for achieving women’s emancipation.

The CRISPR story took a shocking turn in 2018 when a Chinese scientist attempted the unthinkable – overseeing the birth of twin girls with edited DNA.

I devoted multiple chapters to this saga in my book (resulting in the book’s ban in China); meanwhile, Stanford law professor Hank Greely produced an excellent account of the entire story in CRISPR People. Greely eloquently guides the reader beyond the headlines, offering valuable context and shrewd legal analysis, before asking whether this scandal could happen again.

British author, broadcaster and zoologist Matthew Cobb has written several books about the history of DNA research.

As Gods (the book’s original UK title is The Genetic Age) is a fast-paced analysis of “the thrilling and terrifying” 50-year history of genetic engineering and the rise of the biotechnology complex. But Cobb also asks tough questions regarding our propensity to meddle with nature, including the 2018 CRISPR babies scandal, reaching the unsettling conclusion that “dreams and nightmares must go hand in hand”.

This book illuminates the wrenching moral problems humanitarian international NGOs (like Oxfam and Save the Children) face.

How should NGOs balance their responsibilities to aid those who depend on them with their responsibilities to avoid entrenching that dependency? How should they react when the resources they provide are siphoned off by malicious third parties and used to fuel conflict? Given that NGOs are not democratically elected, can their power over aid recipients be justified?

Rubenstein addresses questions like these, drawing on her expertise as an ethicist and several months of fieldwork. I left this book thinking there were no easy answers to the questions Rubenstein raised—but with a much clearer understanding of the moral considerations I would need to account for if I wanted to answer them for myself.

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

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

This book is based on reports, reflections, and correspondence of prison chaplains who interacted with imprisoned Nazi perpetrators awaiting trial and, in some instances, execution.

What the prisoners confessed to the clergy and, even more, the criminal behavior they failed to acknowledge I find so revealing. The prisoners felt guilty for individual personal transgressions (like cheating on their wives). Here, they had chosen to sin. But they felt no guilt about their participation in genocide since they saw themselves as having acted perforce on behalf of the community of the “Volk.”

Kellenbach brings this astonishing fact home in a way that is simultaneously horrifying and empathic. After reading her book, I finally came to understand what Adolf Eichmann meant when he claimed that he was “the victim of a fallacy” at his trial in Jerusalem.

This is an inspiring read from a real changemaker.

Morgan is also someone I have had the pleasure of getting to know through the impact investing conference circuit, and I enjoyed reading her firsthand account of how she combined her social activist desires with the practical tools of finance and investment to create ‘real impact.’

One of my favorite sections of the book was on her early days and successes with shareholder activism. This book and her story are ones that many impact-minded leaders can learn from.