DYSTOPIAN SERIES THAT FEELS TOO REAL

This past weekend, I was rereading my high school comfort book series, “Unwind,” by Neal Shusterman. This time around, I noticed several parallels between the “Unwind” series and the current state of our country. This time, it wasn’t just another dystopian series. It was a powerful statement on bodily autonomy, personal agency, and the terrifying power of government control. First published in 2007, “Unwind” and its sequels (“UnWholly,” “UnSouled,” and “UnDivided”) construct a world where unwanted teenagers don’t just disappear, they are “unwound.” It’s a sanitized term for a gruesome procedure: being surgically dismantled piece by piece, their organs harvested and donated to others.

The premise forces readers to reconsider where the line between life and death truly lies. But again, “Unwind” isn’t just an eerie sci-fi concept, it’s a reflection of real-world debates about abortion, bodily rights, and government overreach. Shusterman’s dystopia presents the horrifying consequences of a society that attempts to legislate morality through compromise at the cost of personal freedom.

THE UNWIND SYSTEM

“Unwind” is set in a near-future America where a Second Civil War, the Heartland War, was fought over reproductive rights. In its wake, the government established a compromise: the Bill of Life. Though legislation outlawed abortion, it allowed parents to “unwind” their children between the ages of 13 and 18. Their logic? Since every part of the unwound teen remains alive, just distributed among different recipients, it is not technically murder.

Shusterman introduces three protagonists each facing an impending unwinding. Connor Lassiter is a rebellious teen whose parents have signed his unwind order. Risa Ward, a ward of the state, is deemed unnecessary due to budget cuts. Levi “Lev” Calder is a “tithe,” raised from birth to be unwound as part of a religious offering. When their paths collide, survival becomes a desperate fight for their simple right to exist.

Not everything is black and white in this series. It presents a society that has actualized the unthinkable under the guise of progress. The government has passed laws that supposedly protect unwinds, but in reality, these laws make the practice more prevalent. The sequels expand on this unsettling world, delving into the black-market trade of body parts and the institutions profiting from this horrifying industry. Shusterman doesn’t just build a dystopian world, he drags readers into it, forcing us to confront its implications which are horrific to us, but normalized for its inhabitants.

REAL WORLD PARALLELS 

At its heart, “Unwind” poses two fundamental questions: Who truly owns our bodies as minors and under what circumstances can that control be taken away? This same argument is at the center of today’s debates over reproductive rights, abortion, and government interference in personal medical decisions.

Since the Supreme Court’s 2022 decision to overturn Roe v. Wade, the battle over abortion rights has intensified. With many states enacting laws that heavily restrict or outright ban abortion, bodily autonomy has become one of the most hotly contested issues in modern politics. The fictional Bill of Life bears a resemblance to real-world legislation, as both operate under the guise of morality (individuals who are utilizing the body parts in “Unwind” and fetuses in the real world) while stripping individuals of personal choice. 

The most notable aspect of “Unwind” is how their society justifies its horrors. The unwound teens don’t “die” in a conventional sense, so the act is posed as being ethical. Much like the legal rhetoric surrounding abortion debates (i.e. whether or not a fetus should be considered alive) “Unwind” exposes how language is often weaponized to control and obscure the truth.

The novel also explores the commodification of human bodies. In “Unwind,” body parts are currency: bought and sold to the highest bidder. It’s a reflection of the real-world exploitation of women’s reproductive systems by restrictive laws and the grim reality of human trafficking. Shusterman doesn’t just tell a story, he issues a warning. If bodily autonomy isn’t staunchly protected, it can become over-regulated and even monetized by those in power.

WHEN THE GOVERNMENT DECIDES

One of the most unsettling messages from the novel is its portrayal of a government that dictates what people can do with their bodies. While the concept of unwinding is fictional, its underlying themes are frighteningly real. From abortion bans to access to contraception and even end-of-life decisions, “Unwind” highlights how quickly personal freedoms can be stripped away when politics takes precedence over personal rights. For example, many state governments have imposed laws that prohibit a minor from getting an abortion unless they have parental consent, despite the fact that the minor themself is the one carrying the child. This is eerily similar to the parents in the “Unwind” series having the power to decide whether they want their child to be unwound. 

Beyond reproductive rights, the book raises greater ethical questions: Should the government have the power to mandate organ donations? Where is the line between medical consent and state control? And if a society justifies dismantling people for the so-called greater good, how long before it extends beyond the most vulnerable?

MODERN DAY MIRRORS 

Shusterman’s “Unwind” is a wake-up call. It forces us to grapple with the consequences of ideological compromises that strip people of their bodily autonomy.

As debates over abortion, medical consent, and personal rights continue to rage, “Unwind” remains as relevant as ever. It challenges readers to think critically about the policies we accept and the ethical lines we’re willing to blur. If history and dystopian fiction have taught us anything, it’s that when personal freedoms are compromised for the “greater good,” it’s always the average person who pays the price.  

Shusterman’s depiction of the future may be fictional, but the questions it raises are anything but.