Understanding Responsibility in the 2025 Government Shutdown

A Non-Partisan Look at Power, Process, and Shared Accountability

On October 1, 2025, the United States federal government entered a partial shutdown—its first since 2018—after Congress and the President failed to reach agreement on either short-term or long-term funding measures. This latest impasse did not arise in isolation; rather, it emerged from years of deepening polarization, institutional gridlock, and declining public trust in the political process. Once again, the shutdown exposed the fragility of cooperation within the machinery of American governance—a system ostensibly built on checks, balances, and deliberation, but increasingly characterized by competition, partisanship, and performative leadership.

At first glance, the political landscape seems straightforward: Republicans currently control the presidency and hold majorities in both the House and the Senate. Yet, the question of responsibility cannot be answered through partisan blame alone. The assumption that institutional control automatically guarantees functionality oversimplifies the realities of governance. Political authority, in practice, is neither absolute nor cohesive; it is fractured by ideological factions, procedural constraints, and the relentless pressures of media-driven politics.

From a feminist analytical lens, this shutdown reveals much more than a failure to pass appropriations—it uncovers the deeper dysfunction in how political power is constructed, exercised, and communicated in a system historically dominated by patriarchal norms. Feminist theory does not reduce political events to party affiliations or electoral victories. Instead, it interrogates the conditions under which power operates: Who has access to decision-making spaces? Whose labor, care, and expertise are valued or dismissed? And whose suffering is rendered invisible when the government ceases to function?

These questions highlight that the shutdown is not only a constitutional or economic event—it is a moral and cultural one. It reflects how both major parties, despite differing ideologies, remain complicit in perpetuating adversarial forms of governance that prioritize control over collaboration. Feminist scholarship urges us to view this not as a failure of a single administration or party, but as evidence of a broader systemic imbalance. When negotiation is framed as weakness and empathy as naivety, the political arena becomes an echo chamber of dominance, where compromise—the essence of democratic progress—is treated as capitulation.

Furthermore, the feminist critique underscores how exclusion operates in subtle yet pervasive ways. Decision-making spaces remain overwhelmingly male, and when women, people of color, or advocates of equity-focused policy enter those arenas, their voices are often minimized or tokenized. The same hierarchical dynamics that shape gender inequality in society also structure political institutions: who speaks, who decides, who benefits, and who bears the cost. A feminist reading of the 2025 shutdown thus invites us to see beyond the headlines about party control and to recognize the gendered and cultural foundations of power that shape American governance itself.

Ultimately, accountability must transcend party lines. The real issue is not which side “failed” to govern, but how both sides continue to operate within systems that reward conflict over care, partisanship over partnership, and performance over purpose. A feminist approach to understanding the shutdown calls for a transformation of political culture—from one rooted in domination and division to one grounded in relational ethics, shared responsibility, and a commitment to collective well-being. Only by reimagining governance through this lens can the United States hope to prevent the cyclical crises that undermine both democracy and the people it is meant to serve.

Shared Institutional Power and Constitutional Design

The framers of the United States Constitution intentionally distributed authority among three coequal branches of government—legislative, executive, and judicial—to prevent the concentration of power and safeguard liberty. This system of checks and balances was designed to promote cooperation and accountability among governing entities, requiring interdependence rather than unilateral action to sustain functionality. Within this framework, Congress was granted the “power of the purse,” meaning it is constitutionally responsible for authorizing federal expenditures through appropriations bills or continuing resolutions. The President, in turn, holds the authority to sign or veto these measures, while executive agencies bear the duty of implementation (Brookings Institution, 2025).

Although this tripartite system is often praised as a triumph of democratic design, it also institutionalizes tension as a feature rather than a flaw. The very mechanisms intended to ensure balance can, in moments of partisan division, produce paralysis. When consensus erodes, the separation of powers becomes less a safeguard and more a battleground—one where political negotiation devolves into strategic obstruction. In such instances, constitutional design reveals both its genius and its limitations: while it restrains tyranny, it also makes cooperation contingent upon the willingness of powerful actors to prioritize governance over personal or party gain.

A feminist interpretation of this dynamic underscores that shared power does not necessarily mean equitable power. The constitutional framework, conceived by men in an era that excluded women and most marginalized groups from civic participation, reflects the hierarchical and adversarial political norms of its time. These traditions persist today, shaping how authority is exercised and contested. Feminist political theory, particularly care ethics, challenges this paradigm by suggesting that effective governance should be grounded not only in institutional balance but also in relational responsibility, empathy, and mutual accountability (Tronto, 1993).

When collaboration fails, it is not merely a procedural breakdown—it is a reflection of deeper cultural values embedded within the political system. The dominant model of governance in the United States often mirrors patriarchal ideals: competition is valorized, compromise is pathologized, and emotional intelligence is dismissed as weakness. In this sense, the 2025 government shutdown can be viewed as more than a partisan impasse. It symbolizes how masculine-coded power structures perpetuate cycles of confrontation rather than cooperation. Feminist scholars argue that governance informed by care ethics would instead prioritize dialogue, interdependence, and collective well-being—qualities that foster sustainable, inclusive policymaking rather than crisis-driven management.

Moreover, feminist analysis illuminates how the rhetoric of “balance” within the separation of powers often conceals underlying inequities. Power may be formally divided, but it is not equally distributed. Structural gatekeeping, gendered expectations of leadership, and systemic barriers to representation continue to privilege certain voices while silencing others. Until governance incorporates diverse perspectives—including those shaped by lived experiences of care, marginalization, and collaboration—political balance will remain theoretical rather than practical.

In this light, the constitutional design’s success depends not only on its legal architecture but also on the social and ethical frameworks that animate it. True equilibrium requires more than institutional constraint; it demands cultural transformation. Feminist political theory invites the nation to reimagine power not as dominance or resistance, but as a shared, evolving relationship between the governed and those who govern—a relationship sustained through trust, empathy, and collective responsibility.

The Majority’s Control and the Myth of Absolute Power

Although one political party currently controls both the executive and legislative branches of government, structural and procedural constraints continue to limit its ability to act unilaterally. Among the most significant of these is the Senate’s cloture rule, which requires a supermajority of sixty votes to end debate and advance most legislation (Harvard Kennedy School, 2025). While this rule was originally intended to foster deliberation and prevent hasty decision-making, it has evolved into one of the most powerful tools for political obstruction in modern governance. The cloture threshold effectively ensures that even a unified majority must seek at least partial cooperation from the minority party—making bipartisanship not merely a virtue but a procedural necessity.

In practice, however, this structural safeguard has become a site of strategic manipulation rather than meaningful dialogue. Both parties have learned to weaponize gridlock for political gain. The majority frequently frames minority opposition as deliberate sabotage, accusing its counterparts of obstructing progress for partisan advantage. Conversely, the minority defends its resistance as an act of principle, portraying itself as a moral check on the majority’s perceived excesses or fiscal irresponsibility. What was once envisioned as a democratic mechanism for reasoned debate has instead become a theater of endurance, where each side performs strength through defiance rather than cooperation.

From a feminist analytical standpoint, this zero-sum approach exemplifies the patriarchal logic of domination that underpins much of Western political culture. Within such systems, power is constructed as possession—something to be seized, defended, or withheld—rather than as stewardship, a shared responsibility oriented toward collective well-being. Feminist theory reframes power not as the capacity to control others, but as the ability to sustain relationships, nurture communities, and foster interdependence. The adversarial posture of U.S. partisanship, however, rewards aggression over empathy and competition over care. It elevates the spectacle of victory above the substance of governance, reinforcing the idea that authority is validated through conquest rather than collaboration.

In this context, neither major party emerges blameless. The majority, endowed with institutional power, often fails to exercise it constructively—prioritizing political triumphs and media narratives over inclusive policymaking. The minority, meanwhile, too frequently chooses symbolic resistance and partisan messaging in place of genuine mediation. Both behaviors exemplify what feminist political theorist Nancy Fraser (2013) describes as performative governance—a mode of politics designed more to project authority and moral superiority than to achieve equitable, tangible outcomes. This performativity sustains a culture in which appearances of strength eclipse ethical responsibility, and where governing becomes an act of spectacle rather than service.

Furthermore, feminist scholars argue that this pattern of competitive obstruction perpetuates exclusionary hierarchies within governance itself. When political legitimacy is tied to domination, the values traditionally associated with feminine or care-centered leadership—such as empathy, listening, and relational accountability—are devalued or dismissed. The Senate’s procedural gridlock, therefore, is not merely an institutional problem; it is a cultural symptom of a broader political order that privileges confrontation over cooperation.

To move beyond this impasse, governance must evolve toward what feminist theorists describe as transformative power: the capacity to reshape relationships, institutions, and priorities in ways that affirm mutual responsibility and collective flourishing. Such a reorientation would not eliminate disagreement but would redefine its purpose—from a contest of wills to a process of shared problem-solving. Only through this shift can political power be reclaimed as a tool of stewardship rather than domination, and democracy as a living practice of care rather than competition.

Negotiation, Policy Riders, and the Politics of Leverage

Government shutdowns rarely occur in isolation; they are the culmination of long-brewing political tensions where negotiation becomes hostage to ideological rigidity. Each shutdown represents not only a fiscal or procedural breakdown but a moral and relational one—a moment in which governance succumbs to competition rather than cooperation. The 2025 shutdown exemplifies this dynamic. Disputes over Medicaid funding, social-service expenditures, and other appropriations riders became the fault lines along which dialogue fractured (ABC News, 2025). These policy debates, while valid in substance, were ultimately derailed by the refusal of either side to yield even minimally in pursuit of compromise. When political identity becomes inseparable from ideological purity, consensus is cast as betrayal, and governance ceases to function as a mechanism for the common good.

A feminist analysis illuminates how this culture of unyielding opposition is not a sign of political strength but a symptom of structural dysfunction. Feminist ethics of care challenge the notion that compromise represents weakness. Instead, care ethics reframes compromise as an act of moral maturity—an acknowledgment of interdependence and shared humanity. Within this framework, listening, empathy, and relational accountability are not secondary virtues but central to sustaining a just society (Tronto, 1993). The feminist critique asks fundamental questions of contemporary political behavior: Why are the loudest, most aggressive voices in the room the ones that define strength? Why is empathy treated as a liability rather than a leadership asset?

In the context of the 2025 shutdown, these questions are not abstract. Both major parties, constrained by performative partisanship, fell into a familiar adversarial pattern. For the majority, refusal to amend policy riders became a demonstration of control and ideological consistency. For the minority, resistance became a moral stand—a defense of values framed as nonnegotiable. Yet beneath these symbolic gestures lay the same political calculus: to maintain narrative dominance rather than to restore functionality. As a result, the federal government’s primary obligation—to serve the people—was eclipsed by a contest of endurance and ego.

From a feminist standpoint, this dynamic reveals the persistence of patriarchal norms within political culture. Patriarchal systems equate leadership with dominance, decisiveness, and aggression—traits historically coded as masculine—while undervaluing the relational skills of dialogue, empathy, and compromise, which are often culturally coded as feminine. Feminist political theorists argue that this hierarchy of values not only marginalizes women and care-oriented leaders but also impoverishes democracy itself (Held, 2006). When strength is defined solely as resistance, governance becomes a zero-sum performance where collaboration is cast as capitulation.

The feminist ethics of care propose an alternative vision of political negotiation—one grounded in reciprocity, responsibility, and relational interdependence. Such an approach does not eliminate disagreement but redefines it as an opportunity for understanding rather than as a battlefield. In this model, policymakers are called to practice responsive listening: an active engagement with the perspectives and needs of others rather than a defensive assertion of ideological purity. This shift transforms political negotiation from an exercise in domination to a form of collective problem-solving—a hallmark of mature, ethical governance.

Ultimately, shutdowns like that of 2025 reveal not only the fragility of political cooperation but also the urgent need to reimagine the moral foundation of governance itself. A feminist reorientation toward care, empathy, and shared accountability offers a way forward—one that resists the false dichotomy between strength and compassion. In this reimagined framework, compromise is not surrender; it is the deliberate choice to value people over posturing, governance over grandstanding, and the collective good over partisan victory.

Social and Economic Impacts: Who Bears the Burden?

Every government shutdown carries tangible human consequences—and those consequences are far from evenly distributed. What may appear as a budgetary standoff in Washington translates into economic instability and emotional strain for millions of Americans. Hundreds of thousands of federal employees—many of whom are women—face immediate and cascading hardships such as missed paychecks, delayed childcare assistance, and interruptions in housing subsidies (Reuters/Ipsos, 2025). For workers living paycheck to paycheck, even a temporary halt in income can mean the difference between security and crisis. The shutdown’s ripple effects extend beyond the federal workforce to contractors, educators, healthcare providers, and families dependent on federally supported programs such as WIC (Women, Infants, and Children) and Head Start. When these essential services are disrupted, the burden falls disproportionately on women, children, and low-income households—groups already situated at the intersection of economic precarity and caregiving responsibility.

A feminist perspective insists that these lived realities be placed at the center of political analysis. It reframes the shutdown not as a bureaucratic inconvenience or partisan chess match, but as a profound social justice issue that exposes how economic vulnerability is gendered, racialized, and classed. Feminist economists and social theorists have long argued that political crises such as government shutdowns reveal the hidden scaffolding of unpaid and undervalued care work—the emotional and physical labor predominantly performed by women that sustains families and communities when institutions fail (Folbre, 2001; Tronto, 1993). When public systems of care falter, private households, and particularly women, are forced to absorb the impact.

This dynamic is especially acute for women of color, who face intersecting barriers that compound financial and social instability. Black and Latina women are overrepresented in both public-sector employment and low-wage care work. When shutdowns halt wages or disrupt benefits, these workers are among the first to feel the strain and the last to recover. Indigenous and rural communities, which often rely heavily on federally funded nutrition, education, and healthcare programs, also experience disproportionate harm. From a feminist and intersectional lens, the 2025 shutdown demonstrates how policy paralysis at the highest levels of government perpetuates structural inequality on the ground.

Moreover, feminist theory challenges the political normalization of such harm. The narrative that shutdowns are simply “part of the process” reflects a masculine-coded conception of governance that valorizes toughness, brinkmanship, and austerity over compassion and responsibility. By contrast, an ethic of care prioritizes relational accountability—recognizing that the wellbeing of the nation depends on the wellbeing of its people, especially those most vulnerable to institutional neglect. To treat the shutdown as merely a fiscal inconvenience is to erase the emotional, physical, and economic toll it inflicts on families and communities.

In this light, both major political parties share responsibility for perpetuating a governance culture that abstracts policy from people. The failure to prevent the shutdown represents a collective disregard for those whose livelihoods depend on steady and reliable public services. A feminist critique demands that political leaders—regardless of party—move beyond the rhetoric of blame and toward a politics grounded in empathy, care, and justice. Structural reform must begin with a revaluation of whose work, time, and security are protected when political conflict arises. Until care-centered ethics are embedded in decision-making, shutdowns will continue to reproduce the same hierarchies of harm, where those with the least power pay the highest price for political dysfunction.

Accountability Beyond Party Lines

While Republicans hold institutional control, Democrats also bear responsibility for engaging in strategic obstruction and public blame rather than substantive policy dialogue. True accountability transcends party affiliation. It requires both parties to examine how their strategies reinforce systems of exclusion and inequality.

From a feminist standpoint, accountability also means rejecting the gendered double standards embedded in political discourse. Women in leadership—on both sides—often face intensified scrutiny for advocating compromise or emotional intelligence. Yet those are precisely the traits that could de-escalate polarization. If the current crisis teaches anything, it is that political maturity and empathy must replace partisan bravado as measures of effective leadership.

Why the Truth Matters

Truth matters because democracy is sustained not only by laws and institutions but by trust—an intangible social contract that binds citizens to their government and one another. Without transparency, accountability, and honesty in public life, this trust erodes, and the very legitimacy of democratic governance begins to fracture. Truth, therefore, is not a mere ideal; it is the moral infrastructure of democracy. When citizens cannot rely on their leaders to communicate truthfully—or when information is manipulated to serve partisan ends—political participation becomes performative rather than purposeful. The health of a democracy can be measured not simply by voter turnout or legislative productivity, but by the degree to which truth is valued over narrative control.

Feminist scholars have long emphasized that truth-telling is not a neutral act but a radical one—an act of care, courage, and resistance. As bell hooks (2000) asserts, speaking truth to power is a form of love for justice; it is an ethical commitment to visibility in systems that depend on silence and compliance. In patriarchal political structures, misinformation and selective memory function as tools of dominance, shaping public perception to maintain control. To tell the truth about governance—its failures, exclusions, and inequalities—is to challenge those structures directly. It is a refusal to accept the comfort of distortion. Feminist truth-telling, then, is both restorative and insurgent: it nurtures communal awareness while confronting the systemic forces that suppress it.

From this lens, honesty in political discourse becomes a feminist ethic of care—a practice that sustains collective well-being through transparency and relational accountability. When public officials obscure the truth for strategic gain, they fracture the relational fabric between citizens and the state. Conversely, when they engage in honest communication—even about errors or limitations—they demonstrate respect for the public’s capacity to reason, empathize, and participate. Feminist theory reframes truth-telling not as an instrument of persuasion but as an act of mutual recognition: an acknowledgment that democracy depends on the informed consent of its people, and that consent cannot exist without clarity.

Understanding that both major parties bear responsibility for the erosion of trust allows citizens to resist reductionist blame narratives that pit one side against the other. A feminist political lens invites voters—especially women and marginalized communities—to see beyond partisan binaries and to demand governance rooted in inclusion, transparency, and shared accountability. Truth-seeking becomes a collective feminist project: an assertion that integrity, empathy, and accuracy are not luxuries but necessities for public life.

In this sense, truth-telling is more than a moral imperative—it is a political act of reclamation. It reclaims democracy from the culture of performance and polarization that has come to define it. It restores integrity to institutions that have too often prioritized power over people, image over integrity, and dominance over dialogue. To seek truth is to care for the collective—to insist that democracy must serve all, not just those who wield authority within it. And in doing so, it affirms what feminist thinkers have long known: that care, courage, and truth are not oppositional to power but the very foundations of its just and humane expression.

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Questions for Further Thought

1) How can feminist ethics of care inform more collaborative approaches to national budgeting and crisis prevention?

• Core idea. Treat budgeting as a care infrastructure decision (health, childcare, housing, food security), not just a ledger exercise.
• Process shifts.
  • What would a “care impact assessment” look like for every budget bill (e.g., effects on unpaid care work, WIC/Head Start continuity, eldercare waitlists)?
  • How might participatory budgeting panels include caregivers, social workers, disability advocates, tribal leaders, and frontline federal staff?
• Negotiation norms.
  • Which facilitation practices (consensus-seeking agendas, shared problem statements, structured listening rounds) reduce brinkmanship?
  • Could caucuses adopt “cooling-off” protocols and joint fact-finding before red-line standoffs?
• Prevention tools.
  • What early-warning indicators (missed appropriations milestones, agency burn-rate dashboards) trigger automatic mediation?
  • How could interagency “continuity of care” plans guarantee uninterrupted benefits during funding gaps?
• Evidence/metrics. Track: on-time appropriations rate, continuity of essential programs, household hardship claims, and parity in who testifies (gender, race, role).

2.) What institutional reforms—such as automatic continuing resolutions or modified Senate rules—could reduce future shutdowns?

• Automatic continuing resolutions (ACRs).
  • Baseline funding extension (e.g., 30–90 days) when deadlines pass, paired with penalties that discourage delay (e.g., temporary across-the-board congressional pay escrow, capped political travel).
  • Guardrails to avoid “permanent CRs,” like mandated quarterly conference reports.
• Targeted rule tweaks (Senate/House).
  • Filibuster carve-outs limited to appropriations and debt-ceiling bills; or gradually lowering cloture thresholds across successive votes.
  • Bipartisan discharge petitions for spending bills that stall in committee.
• Sequencing & transparency.
  • Enforceable calendars (e.g., 302(b) allocations by a fixed date) and public “traffic light” dashboards on each bill’s status.
• Independent arbitration windows.
  • Short, time-boxed mediation facilitated by nonpartisan budget staff (e.g., CBO/GAO observers) when chambers deadlock.
• Equity safeguards.
  • “Continuity of care” carve-outs that pre-authorize specific programs (nutrition assistance, domestic-violence shelters) during lapses.
• Tradeoffs to evaluate. Does an ACR reduce leverage for necessary reforms? Which version balances continuity with accountability?

3.) In what ways can civic education emphasize cooperation, empathy, and shared responsibility over partisanship?

• Curriculum redesign.
  • Case-based modules on past shutdowns that require multi-party negotiation to reach a “care-first” budget.
  • Media literacy units on spotting misinformation, scapegoating, and selective memory.
• Skills practice.
  • Deliberative forums (e.g., Citizens’ Assemblies simulations) with rotating roles—majority, minority, agency lead, caregiver advocate.
  • Conflict-resolution techniques: active listening, reframing, interest-based bargaining.
• Community partnerships.
  • Service-learning with shelters, food banks, and clinics to connect policy to lived realities.
• Assessment & incentives.
  • Grade collaboration outcomes (joint briefs, shared recommendations) alongside individual performance.
  • Track empathy growth with validated scales (e.g., perspective-taking indices) and measure shifts in civic trust.
• Adult civics.
  • Workplace and union programs on budget basics; town-hall formats that prioritize question-pairing (“steel-manning” opposing views).

4.) How might women’s political leadership styles challenge adversarial models of governance?

Compare bipartisan co-sponsorship rates, amendment adoption, and on-time appropriations before/after elevating women to key negotiation posts.

• Leadership traits to surface (not essentialize).

Evidence shows many women leaders (across parties) employ coalition-building, relational accountability, and transparency—styles that can blunt zero-sum dynamics.

• Institutional supports.

Cross-party women’s caucuses with protected time for pre-negotiation, shared fact-finding, and agenda-setting on care infrastructure.

Mentorship pipelines and committee chair rotations that normalize collaborative styles.

• Cultural change levers.

Media codes that evaluate outcomes and inclusion (who benefits, who’s at the table), not just “toughness.”

Chamber norms that penalize performative obstruction (time limits on duplicative speeches; evidence requirements for claims).

• Intersectional lens.

Elevate women of color, Indigenous, immigrant, and disability leaders—whose approaches often integrate community accountability and restorative practices.

• Measurement.

Compare bipartisan co-sponsorship rates, amendment adoption, and on-time appropriations before/after elevating women to key negotiation posts.

We Want to Hear from You

Government shutdowns reach far beyond the corridors of power—they touch everyday lives in ways that statistics and headlines often fail to capture. Behind each halted program and delayed paycheck are stories of families recalculating budgets, parents struggling to secure childcare, and communities bracing for uncertainty. These disruptions ripple outward: local economies slow, small businesses that rely on federal contracts lose income, and essential services—from food assistance to veterans’ benefits—hang in the balance. What appears to many as a political standoff in Washington is, for millions of people, an erosion of stability, trust, and dignity.
As we reflect on the current shutdown, it’s worth asking: how has this moment affected you, your work, and your community? Have you noticed changes in the availability of services, in public morale, or in how people relate to government institutions? More importantly, what do these experiences reveal about the kind of leadership—and the kind of values—we collectively uphold?
Do you believe our leaders value care and cooperation as much as competition and control? In a political culture that often rewards confrontation, how can we cultivate empathy and accountability as measures of strength? Feminist ethics remind us that care is not weakness—it is the foundation of a sustainable democracy. The health of our political system depends not on who wins the next argument, but on how effectively we listen, support, and build with one another through crisis.
Your voice matters in this conversation. By sharing your experiences, you contribute to a richer, more honest understanding of how governance decisions shape human lives. Whether you are a federal employee, a small business owner, a parent navigating childcare gaps, or a citizen watching events unfold from a distance, your perspective adds to a collective truth that policymakers too often overlook. Democracy is not maintained solely by elected officials; it is sustained by an engaged and informed public—by people who refuse to be silent when systems of power forget whom they serve.
So, we invite you to speak, to question, and to imagine better. What would a government look like if care, cooperation, and transparency guided every decision? What might change if truth and empathy carried as much weight in political discourse as partisanship and performance? The answers to those questions begin with each of us—and together, they can redefine what it means to live in a democracy that truly serves everyone, not just those who hold the microphone.

References

• ABC News. (2025, October 1). U.S. government shuts down after Congress fails to reach funding deal. https://abcnews.go.com/Politics/us-government-shut-midnight/story
• Brookings Institution. (2025). What is a government shutdown—and why are we likely to have another one? https://www.brookings.edu/articles/what-is-a-government-shutdown-and-why-are-we-likely-to-have-another-one
• Fraser, N. (2013). Fortunes of Feminism: From State-Managed Capitalism to Neoliberal Crisis. Verso.
• Harvard Kennedy School. (2025). Why government shutdowns keep happening. https://www.hks.harvard.edu/faculty-research/policy-topics/democracy-governance/explainer-why-government-shutdowns-keep
• Hooks, b. (2000). Feminism Is for Everybody: Passionate Politics. South End Press.
• Reuters/Ipsos. (2025, October 9). Who’s to blame for the shutdown? All of the above. https://www.reuters.com/world/us/whos-blame-shutdown-all-above-reutersipsos-poll-finds-2025-10-09
• Tronto, J. C. (1993). Moral Boundaries: A Political Argument for an Ethic of Care. Routledge.