Their fiat is a form of biopolitical futurity which continues the power of governmentally, only through new futures may we rupture theirs.

We have argued here, along with the contributors, that futurity is dangerous. How then, do we proceed? Though these articles do not answer the durable question of racial injustice, they caution us to take care to understand what political work the future does. Modernity denies futurity to racialized others by depending upon a hierarchy of human-ness. These papers remind us that, ironically, efforts to include the marginalized within the biopolitics of the human serve to naturalize and reinscribe the functioning of race rather than attacking the hierarchy of humanity that produces the uneven distribution of life and death. Our readings of race-biopolitics indicate that white non-futurity has been greatly exaggerated. White supremacists refer to a ‘‘white genocide,’’ revealing a racial fantasy rooted in white fragility (DiAngelo, 2011), while some on the left place hope in demographic changes to shift party politics. The articles here make clear that whiteness is about more than demographic trends, and recent events reaffirm that a lax teleological hopefulness equating futurity with progress will lead to repetition rather than rupture. We must work toward a future that comprises a break with a past that cannot be reconciled or forgiven (Eaves, 2016; Inwood, 2012).

Da Silva (2011) asks us to take on racism as ‘‘biopolitical arsenal’’ by understanding how race emerged in modernity, infused into the apparatus of the ‘‘bios’’ and the ‘‘political,’’ and sustained through the production of new efficient tools for sorting humanity. Here, we suggest it is incumbent on us to pay attention to both specificities and continuities in context-based, future-oriented biopolitical practice. That is, as Olund observes, there are multiple and complex racializing spatio-temporalities beyond what is implied by the white/non-white binary. Here, we identify two competing temporalities. On the one hand, a hopeful imagining of the future (as a ‘‘long arc toward justice’’) sees biopolitical violence as exceptional or as falling away over time. On the other, in the vocalization that Black Lives Matter, and in the indigenous re-occupation of Standing Rock, alternate futurities momentarily rupture the present tense, revealing the untenability of the biopolitical violence that undergirds this world. In Olund’s words, under present biopolitical regimes, ‘‘white spaces and futures are necessarily heteronormative, while racialized spaces and temporalities are queered’’ (285). The disruption of race-biopolitics requires a seizure of the biopolitical arsenal, and a queering of the future through 216 Environment and Planning D: Society and Space 35(2) decolonial, abolitionist, and fugitive practices (Best and Hartman, 2005; Bliss, 2015; Collard et al., 2015; Dillon, 2013; Gumbs, 2016; Harney and Moten, 2013; Heynen, 2014; Jackson et al., 2013; McKittrick, 2013; Morgensen, 2011; Mun˜oz, 2007; Tuck and Yang, 2012), to undo the grammar that binds us to a narrowly defined human future.