Philosophy, despite its typical attitude of detachment and abstraction, has for most of its long history been engaged with the practical and mundane-seeming question of whether there is a duty to obey the law. As Matthew Kramer has recently summarized: “For centuries, political and legal theorists have pondered whether each person is under a general obligation of obedience to the legal norms of the society wherein he or she lives. The obligation at issue in those theorists' discussions is usually taken to be prima-facie, comprehensively applicable, universally borne, and content-independent.” This essay is a commentary on the current state of discussion of this perennial philosophical topic.

In an article published in 2001, Charles W. Collier raises a number of objections to my article “Speech, Harm, and the Mind-Body Problem in First Amendment Jurisprudence,” beginning with an implicit objection embedded in the subtitle of his article: “Hate Speech and the Mind-Body Problem: A Critique of Postmodern Censorship Theory.” Since I advocate neither postmodernism nor censorship, and since I would have thought that “postmodern censorship” was an oxymoron, I found this characterization of my position surprising, to say the least. Collier does not define “postmodern censorship theory” or even “postmodernism,” but he helpfully includes a note citing Steven Gey's article, “The Case against Postmodern Censorship Theory.” Gey, in turn, claims to have picked up the terminology from an article by Kathleen Sullivan, “Free Speech Wars.” Curiously, though, Sullivan nowhere uses the phrase “postmodern censorship theory” in the article cited, although she does discuss a group of leftist legal theorists she dubs “the new speech regulators,” arguing that they: demand a response from those who would leave speech mostly deregulated; and they deserve a response that goes beyond the rote and reflexive invocation of free speech as an article of faith. The appeal to the First Amendment as self-evident truth may be no more effective, as Professor Henry Louis Gates Jr. recently cautioned, than Samuel Johnson's attempt to refute Bishop Berkeley merely by kicking a stone.

There are many categories of action to which specific acts belong only if performed with some particular intention. Our commonsense concepts of types of action are sensitive to intent—think of the difference between lying and telling an untruth, for instance—but the law is replete with clear and unambiguous examples. Assault with intent to kill and possession of an illegal drug with intent to distribute are both much more serious crimes than mere assault and mere possession. A person is guilty of a crime of attempt—attempted murder, for instance, or attempted rape—only if that person had the intention to perform a crime. Under the federal carjacking law, an act of hijacking an automobile counts as carjacking only if performed with the intention to kill or inflict serious bodily harm on the driver of the car. In all of these cases, the question of whether or not a particular defendant had the precise intention necessary for the crime can make a huge difference, often a difference of years in prison, but sometimes literally a difference of life or death; sometimes whether the crime is one for which the death penalty can be given turns solely on the question of whether or not the actor had the relevant intention.