Introduction
In its October 1960 issue, ONE Magazine—the United States’ first widely distributed queer publication
—began promoting a thirty-day, seven-country tour of Europe that it was helping organize.
Set to depart in September 1961, the “CRUISE THROUGH EUROPE”
aimed to bring ONE’s “world-wide readership”
together “Under the Wing of the World’s Outstanding Ceramic Designer.”
At a time when law enforcement commonly targeted queer Americans for associating with each other publicly—calling it vagrancy, disorderly conduct, solicitation, or something similarly vague
—it is no surprise that over 300 ONE readers inquired about the trip
in hopes of leaving the country and experiencing the “Gay Capitals of Europe” together.
Four days before the group’s scheduled departure, however, Continental Travel Service—the travel agency helping ONE, Inc. organize the trip—abruptly canceled it
“on the pretext that too few had signed up to make the tour profitable.”
After the cancellation, ONE’s Board of Directors published a letter that both accused the travel agency of “grossly violat[ing] . . . standards of honorable conduct” and urged the magazine’s readers to “completely shun[]” the service “as unreliable.”
But the Board did more than express anger; it countered Continental Travel Service’s actions using the law of contracts. The Board alleged that the travel agency sent ONE a signed statement saying that “the tour would take place in any event, even should registrations fall below the hoped-for quota.”
The Board then asserted: “[T]he above constitutes a contract. . . . It is our intention to prosecute this view to the fullest possible extent.”
In private correspondence to the travel agency, the Board demanded either that a ONE representative be sent “on the identical itinerary specified . . . at no cost” or that Continental Travel Service compensate ONE $5,000 for its losses.
Engaging with legal concepts was not new to ONE. Its magazine discussed the law in nearly every published issue.
It even litigated a case before the Supreme Court and won a seminal ruling declaring its queer material not obscene.
And ONE wasn’t alone. Engagement with the law was a crucial component of the homophile movement, the main movement for queer rights during the 1950s and 1960s.
What was new in ONE’s response to the canceled Europe tour, however, was the Board’s decision to frame its response in terms of contract law. Homophile groups usually focused exclusively on public law topics like administrative law, constitutional law, and criminal law in their engagement with the law.
ONE’s Board, however, recognized both the importance and novelty of using contract law: “Our intention . . . is to make it as clear regarding commercial matters, as ONE has for years been doing concerning civil . . . rights, that homosexuals cannot be trampled under foot with impunity.”
With this, the magazine announced contract law as an important legal tool queer people could use to assert their rights.
ONE’s response to the cancellation of the 1961 “Gay Tour of Europe”
invites us to turn our attention to the role of contract law (and private law more broadly) in the fight for queer rights. How did queer people use private law, and specifically contract law, in their fight for equality and dignity under the law? How effective was contract law in this fight? What are the implications for queer people today?
Reading the archive’s statements and its silences, this Note unearths previously unstudied instances of homophile groups invoking contract law in their fight for queer rights. These moments reveal contract law’s important role in homophile legal strategy. Over the course of the two-decade movement, however, homophile groups’ use of contract law changed. During the 1950s, homophile groups urged queer people to use contract law to avoid legal disputes and keep the outside world from invading their private lives.
But after the movement’s militarization in the early 1960s, queer organizations began making affirmative claims—like ONE’s—based in contract law, some of which had limited success.
These contract claims served two purposes. On one hand, they were a tool queer people used to create space to exercise and advocate for their public law rights.
But queer people also sought to advance and protect contract rights for their own sake, mirroring their approach to advocating for public law rights.
Contract law was thus a key part of queer people’s growing rights consciousness.
This Note gives contract law its rightful due in the homophile movement’s story. Imbuing contract law into the existing narrative both nuances our understanding of homophile legal strategy and calls attention to the porous divide between doctrines of law commonly studied in social movement histories (public law) and those often neglected (private law).
These lessons suggest that private law should play a larger role in our vision for a future in which queer people have full equality under the law.
This Note is the first study to examine queer people’s assertion of their contract law rights in the pre-Stonewall era.
Part I surveys previous scholarship on homophile legal strategy, uncovers blind spots that arise from the field’s almost exclusive focus on public law, and explains this Note’s novel approach. Part II then illustrates the role of contract law in homophile legal strategy, beginning with the 1950s and continuing to the 1960s. Part III considers the present-day implications of these findings, offering potential avenues for further research and inviting today’s movement lawyers to increase their focus on private law as a tool to serve the queer community.