 From these understandings of subjectivity, it is easy to see how critics of identity politics, and even some cautious supporters, have wondered how it can meet the challenges of intersectionality (Hill Collins and Bilge 2016). Intersectionality is both an ontology and a method, with origins in women of color feminisms, especially Black feminisms (Crenshaw 1989, 1990; Cho, Crenshaw, and McCall 2013; Hancock 2016). Its central tenet is that no axis of identity can be understood as separable from others—whether in terms of individual experience or the political structures that underlie social stratification. To speak of “people of color” without distinguishing between class, gender, sexuality, national and ethnic contexts, for example, is to risk representing the experience of only some of the group’s members—typically those who are most privileged. To the extent that identity politics urges mobilization around a single axis, it will put pressure on participants to identify that axis as their defining feature, when in fact they may well understand themselves as integrated selves who cannot be represented so selectively or reductively (Carastathis 2017). Generalizations made about particular social groups in the context of identity politics may also come to have a disciplinary function within the group, not just describing but also dictating the self-understanding that its members should have. Thus, the supposedly liberatory new identity may inhibit autonomy, as Anthony Appiah puts it, replacing “one kind of tyranny with another” (1994: 163). Just as dominant groups in the culture at large insist that the marginalized integrate by assimilating to dominant norms, so within some practices of identity politics dominant sub-groups may, in theory and practice, impose their vision of the group’s identity onto all its members.