Amin Ghaziani is a professor of sociology and Canada research chair in urban sexualities at the University of British Columbia. Having found himself on a sabbatical at the London School of Economics, he quickly became fascinated with London’s queer nightlife – or lack of, if the headlines are to be believed – leading to his book, Long Live Queer Nightlife.
Where and when were you born, and how has this shaped who you are?
I was born in Karachi, and my family came to the US when I was eight months old. Being an immigrant twice in my life, first when mom and dad relocated to the US and then again as an adult when I chose to move to Canada, has encouraged me to adopt a global lens for my work and in my life. Being racialised and queer adds an additional, beautiful intersectional texture to my life.
What kind of student were you at university?
I was the valedictorian of my high school, and now I’m a professor. That should tell you a little something about the kind of student I was, and still am, at university.
What divided your life into a ‘before’ and ‘after’?
11 October 1994. That was the night I first walked into a gay bar. I was a first-year undergraduate student at the University of Michigan. I wasn’t out in high school, but I wanted to use my time in college to figure it out. The local club was called the Nectarine, and I must have paced back and forth from across the street for a good half-hour before I found the courage to go inside. And once inside, I couldn’t believe what I saw, and how I felt. Here I was, for the first time, in a place filled with other queer people. I also had the good fortune of meeting my first boyfriend that night, a lovely man who taught me how to love another man.
What made you decide to research nightlife?
I had no intention of coming to London, no intention of studying nightlife, and I certainly didn’t know anything about the underground parties that are the stars of my book. It was only after a friend invited me to join him at LSE and I arrived that I became aware of the large number of bar closures in the city. In the first two decades of the 2000s, the number of LGBTQ night-time venues in London declined by 58 per cent, and while all night-time spaces were struggling, the impact on queer spaces was more dire. It was around this time that the term “closure epidemic” emerged, similar to trends in Berlin and across the world. As someone who has crafted a career around the study of urban sexualities, this struck me as a global social problem that I wanted to better understand.
Your book argues against long-held beliefs that queer nightlife is dying, arguing instead that it is transforming, and consequently catering to a more diverse audience in the process. Why is it important to challenge such narratives?
Most people, when they think and talk about nightlife, focus on a single expression: the gay bar. And based on the closing of those bars, they make sweeping statements that all of nightlife is in trouble. I want to tell a different story, a more hopeful, perhaps even joyful, story. To do that, we need to recognise that gay bars are not the sum total of nightlife. Once we come to terms with that insight, we can appreciate how gay bars can close while queer nightlife can thrive. I think a revolution is occurring in underground places where people are reclaiming the night in the name of those who for too long have felt left out. In London, these parties are called club nights. They teach us many things, including that queerness is indefatigable: we are resilient, even in the face of a closure epidemic.
What can academia learn from (queer) nightlife?
What I want to emphasise is joy. I have lost count of the number of studies I have read about suffering and social problems, bigotry and bias, discrimination and inequality. Those arguments are accurate and absolutely essential for guiding us toward a more just world. Yet, having fun and feeling joy is what sustains us while we grapple with the tough stuff. Sociologists call this a “joy deficit”. Negative experiences are only part of the picture, never its whole. Anything but trivial, joy is life-enhancing and deeply political. When we go out and have fun with our friends, it creates a shared emotional energy that promotes group pride and communal attachments. Joy brings us closer together, and as it does, we model positive relationships with each other.
How has your research influenced your relationship with queer spaces?
I have become much more tuned into principles that I would not have been able to articulate before I did this research. First, articulated consent is the first idea that I learned. Queer parties are explicit and unambiguous about consent, and you’ll often see consent policies posted on the walls. Intentional inclusion is a second principle that influences how I relate with nightlife. These are places that are powered by marginalised communities who have often struggled to feel that they belong in gay bars. Finally, I would elevate the importance of intersectional queerness. The parties that I talk about in my book prioritise the bodies of people who don’t normally get to go to a public space and be centred, like racialised, nonbinary, and trans+ people. It was here in London that I, for the first time in my life, found my way to the centre of a dance floor that centred me in return. An experience like that changes you, deeply and forever.
juliette.rowsell@timeshighereducation.com
CV
1994-98 BA American studies, University of Michigan
1999-2002 MA sociology and management and organisations, Northwestern University
2002-06 PhD sociology and management and organisations, Northwestern
2007-08 Visiting assistant professor, Northwestern
2008-11 Postdoctoral fellow, Princeton University
2011-14 Assistant professor of sociology, University of British Columbia
2014-19 Associate professor of sociology, British Columbia
2016-present Canada research chair in urban sexualities, British Columbia
2019-present Professor of sociology, British Columbia
Appointments
Christian Wolfrum is joining Nanyang Technological University, Singapore as deputy president and provost. Currently vice-president for research at ETH Zurich and formerly the Parkway Pantai professor of healthy ageing at the National University of Singapore, he will take on the new role in June, succeeding Ling San. NTU president Ho Teck Hua said that Professor Wolfrum would bring “a wealth of experience and achievements in enhancing the quality of learning, teaching, and scholarship”.
Gishan Dissanaike has been named dean of Judge Business School at the University of Cambridge, where he has been on the faculty for 30 years. The interim dean since July 2023, this marks the first time that an internal candidate has been selected to lead the school. Vice-chancellor Deborah Prentice said that as stand-in head Professor Dissanaike “has been an effective leader, earning the support of the faculty, professional staff and alumni communities”.
Muthupandian Ashokkumar has been appointed deputy pro vice-chancellor international (South Asia and Middle East) at the University of Melbourne, where he will also lead the Melbourne Global Centre in Delhi.
Climatologist Chen Deliang has been appointed chair professor at Tsinghua University. He was previously August Röhss chair of the department of earth sciences at the University of Gothenburg.
Science presenter Hannah Fry is joining the University of Cambridge as professor of the public understanding of mathematics. She is currently professor of the mathematics of cities at UCL.
Diamond Ashiagbor has been named 125th anniversary chair at the University of Birmingham. She is currently professor of law at the University of Kent. Birmingham has also named seven 125th anniversary fellows: Lakshya Bhardwaj, Claire Dancer, Sulhail Dhawan, Scott Harper, Sarah Hillman, Ali Sadaghiana and Peng Zhang.
Mark Shipley has been appointed professor of clinical medical education at the University of Sunderland.
