Biopolitics describes the ways governments manage and regulate human life itself, not just territory or laws, but the biological existence of populations. It covers everything from public health campaigns and birth rate policies to genetic screening and pandemic lockdowns. The concept was developed by French philosopher Michel Foucault in the 1970s and has since become one of the most widely used frameworks for understanding how modern states exercise power over people’s bodies, health, and daily behaviors.
From the Sword to the Census
Foucault introduced the concept of “biopower” in his 1976 book The History of Sexuality, Volume 1, arguing that a fundamental shift had occurred in how governments relate to the people they govern. For most of history, rulers held power through the threat of death. A king could execute, imprison, or punish. Foucault summarized this older model as the power to “take life or let live,” symbolized by the sword.
Starting in the 17th and 18th centuries, a new logic emerged. States began focusing less on the power to kill and more on the power to manage life: to monitor birth rates, improve public hygiene, regulate sexuality, extend lifespans, and optimize the health of entire populations. Foucault described this as a power “bent on generating forces, making them grow, and ordering them, rather than one dedicated to impeding them, making them submit, or destroying them.” The old model of punishment didn’t disappear. It simply became “one element among others” in a much larger system of control focused on keeping populations alive, productive, and measurable.
This is biopolitics: the entry of life and its biological mechanisms into the realm of political calculation. When a government tracks infection rates, incentivizes certain family sizes, or decides which bodies are fit for labor or citizenship, it is practicing biopolitics.
Reproductive Control as a Case Study
Few areas illustrate biopolitics more clearly than reproduction. The eugenics movement of the early 20th century is a stark example. Rooted in the idea that a nation’s health depended on breeding “better stock,” eugenics programs classified certain people as genetically “unfit” and pushed sterilization as a cost-effective solution. In the 1927 Supreme Court case Buck v. Bell, the U.S. Supreme Court voted 8 to 1 to uphold the constitutionality of forcibly sterilizing women with disabilities, affirming the state’s authority to decide who should reproduce.
These practices fell disproportionately on Black women. By 1965, 14% of Black women in the United States had undergone surgical sterilization. By 1971, that figure rose to 20%. Physicians sometimes gave Black women an ultimatum: submit to sterilization or lose welfare benefits. In these cases, a woman’s own wishes about her body were subordinated to a physician’s judgment and, behind that, to a state calculus about which lives were worth fostering and which were not.
The legalization of abortion through Roe v. Wade in 1973 was framed as removing government intrusion from reproductive decisions. But from a biopolitical perspective, every policy shift around reproduction, whether restricting or expanding access, reflects the state’s ongoing role in governing biological life.
Agamben and the State of Exception
Italian philosopher Giorgio Agamben pushed Foucault’s framework in a darker direction. In his 1998 book Homo Sacer, Agamben argued that the production of what he called “bare life,” human existence stripped of all political rights and protections, is the original activity of sovereign power. His central figure is the homo sacer, a person from ancient Roman law who could be killed by anyone without it counting as murder, yet could not be sacrificed in a religious ritual. This figure exists in a zone of abandonment: technically inside the legal system, but stripped of its protections.
Agamben saw this dynamic playing out in modern politics through what he called the “state of exception,” moments when governments suspend normal legal protections in the name of emergency. By suspending the law, sovereign power gains direct access to life itself, without any mediating rights or protections. For Agamben, the most extreme realization of this logic was the concentration camp: “the most absolute biopolitical space ever to have been realized, in which power confronts nothing but pure life, without any mediation.” His point was not that all modern politics resembles a camp, but that the legal mechanisms enabling such spaces remain embedded in contemporary governance.
Immunity as a Political Logic
Italian philosopher Roberto Esposito offered a different angle. He focused on immunity as the central metaphor of modern biopolitics. His “immunitary paradigm” describes how states protect life not by affirming it, but by introducing controlled negation. Just as a vaccine introduces a weakened pathogen to protect the body, political systems protect the community by identifying and neutralizing perceived threats, whether those threats are diseases, foreign populations, or ideological enemies.
The catch is that this protective mechanism can turn against the very life it claims to safeguard. Immunity, in Esposito’s framework, “subjects the organism to a condition that simultaneously negates or reduces its power to expand.” The political body stays secure by defining itself against an outsider, but in doing so, it internalizes the very logic of threat it was trying to eliminate.
Biopolitics at the Border
National borders are one of the clearest sites where biopolitical logic operates today. Modern borders don’t simply block movement. They filter it. Scholars describe contemporary borders as functioning like “a system of dams” rather than sealed walls, selectively allowing certain types of migrants through while blocking others. The filtering criteria are biopolitical: borders establish hierarchies that rank people based on their potential economic contribution, health status, skill level, and national origin.
Turkey’s border management, for instance, not only separates migrants from citizens but also creates rankings among different migrant groups, sorting people into categories of more or less valuable life. This sorting process reflects the biopolitical logic Foucault described: populations are classified, evaluated, and managed based on calculations about which lives benefit the state and which do not.
Pandemic Governance
The COVID-19 pandemic made biopolitics visible in everyday life on a scale most people had never experienced. In England, the government’s response relied on what researchers have called “calculative technologies,” precise numerical rules that governed bodily behavior. Wash your hands for 20 seconds. Stay two meters from others. Self-isolate for seven days if symptomatic, 14 days if a household member tested positive. Gather in groups no larger than six.
Noncompliance carried financial penalties. In England, a first offense brought a £100 fine (reduced to £50 if paid within two weeks), doubling for each subsequent violation up to £3,200. The government declared a national emergency and instructed the public to stay home, with only four permitted exceptions: essential shopping, one hour of outdoor exercise, helping vulnerable people, and commuting to jobs that couldn’t be done remotely. Gatherings of more than two people from different households were banned outright.
Daily infection rates, death tolls, and the virus’s reproduction number became the metrics through which life was managed. These numbers shaped policy decisions that dictated the most intimate details of daily existence: who you could see, where you could go, how close you could stand. The pandemic made the biopolitical bargain explicit. Governments promised to safeguard life, and in return demanded unprecedented control over how that life was lived.
Genetic Data and Digital Surveillance
Biopolitics has moved to the molecular level. Modern genetic testing can identify mutations and risk factors in people who are completely healthy, effectively turning them into what researchers call “asymptomatic patients.” You may feel fine, but your genome contains information that classifies you as high-risk or low-risk for diseases you may never develop. The body becomes, in this framework, “constantly threatened from within because it contains unfathomable mutations and pre-programmed risks.”
The language around genetics often mirrors the language of security. One biologist described genes as being “like terrorists: they have the power to kill, maim, or make life downright miserable,” sleeping for decades before striking. Genetic counselors describe tumor suppressor genes as being “like the police,” patrolling cells for errors. This framing turns the interior of the body into a space requiring surveillance, risk assessment, and preemptive intervention.
Digital data amplifies this dramatically. With the volume of information now generated through apps, wearable devices, search histories, and social media, the possibilities for identifying and assigning health risks are essentially limitless. All kinds of markers and behaviors, from genetic mutations to smoking habits, age, and daily activity levels, can be correlated with health outcomes. The biopolitical gaze no longer requires a doctor’s visit. It operates continuously through the data you generate simply by living.
Climate and the Limits of Biopolitics
Climate change presents a challenge that existing biopolitical strategies have largely failed to address. The traditional framework of biopolitics focuses on securing human life, optimizing populations, and managing risks to human health and productivity. But the environmental crisis reveals that the very systems built to secure human life, particularly economies powered by fossil fuels, are destabilizing the planetary conditions that make human life possible in the first place.
Some scholars argue that the current moment demands a fundamentally different biopolitics, one that recognizes that “securing the biohuman is now the danger.” The conventional tools of risk management, designed around calculable threats and manageable populations, struggle with the scale and unpredictability of climate disruption. If biopolitics has always been about governing life, the question now is whether that framework can expand beyond human populations to encompass the ecological systems on which all life depends.

