Rousseau has the reputation of being a radical egalitarian. I shall suggest that a more careful reading of his work shows him to have been hardly more egalitarian than Plato. He was undoubtedly disturbed by existing inequalities, especially as he observed them in France. He had an original and interesting theory about how inequality among men came into being; he also set out what he considered to be the connections between equality and freedom. As a champion of a certain idea of freedom, he wrote in favor of specific sorts of equality; even as Plato, as the champion of a certain idea of justice, wrote in favor of putting every man in his place. The great difference is that Plato believed that men were never equal, whereas Rousseau believed they had once been equal but no longer were.

To the proposition that all men are born equal he could be said to subscribe only in the sense that “all men were originally equal”. Rousseau argued that equality prevailed in the state of nature; but he also said it would be wrong to expect, even to desire such equality in civil society. In the final footnote to his Discourse on the Origins of Inequality (hereinafter called the Second Discourse) he wrote (in 1753): “Distributive justice would still be opposed to that rigorous equality of the state of nature, even if it were practicable in civil society.”1

Commentators eager to claim Rousseau as an egalitarian, or proto-Marx, ignore this footnote; as for the opinions expressed in the Dedication to the Second Discourse, opinions no less at variance with egalitarian ideology, they tend to be dismissed as empty hyperbole, designed to ingratiate the philosopher with the authorities of Geneva at a time when he wanted to recover his rights as a citizen and burgess.

Algorithms are now routinely used in decision-making; they are potent components in decisions that affect the lives of individuals and the activities of public and private institutions. Although use of algorithms has many benefits, a number of problems have been identified with their use in certain domains, most notably in domains where safety and fairness are important. Awareness of these problems has generated public discourse calling for algorithmic accountability. However, the current discourse focuses largely on algorithms and their opacity. I argue that this reflects a narrow and inadequate understanding of accountability. I sketch an account of accountability that takes accountability to be a social practice constituted by actors, forums, shared beliefs and norms, performativity, and sanctions, and aimed at putting constraints on the exercise of power. On this account, algorithmic accountability is not yet constituted; it is in the making. The account brings to light a set of questions that must be addressed to establish it.

Bioethics as a field began some years before it was finally named in the early 1970s. In many ways, bioethics originated in response to urgent matters of the moment, including the controversy over disconnecting Karen Quinlan's respirator, the egregious paternalism of Donald Cowart's doctors in the famous “Dax” case, the abuse of research subjects in the notorious Tuskegee Syphilis Study, and the need to devise an intellectual framework for the development of federal regulations to protect human subjects of research. The phrase “new and unprecedented” became a common description of the topics and issues to which people who later came to be called “bioethicists” responded. It should come as no surprise that bioethics and its practitioners soon came to the self-understanding that their work was new and unprecedented, much as the innovations of biomedical science and their clinical applications were thought to be.

Adam Smith has long been celebrated as a polymath, and his wide interests in and contributions to each of the discrete component fields of PPE have long been appreciated. Yet Smith deserves the attention of practitioners of PPE today not simply for his substantive insights, but for the ways in which his inquiries into these different fields were connected. Smith’s inquiry was distinguished by a synthetic approach to knowledge generation, and specifically to generating knowledge with applications exportable to other fields. Further, Smith’s investigations of various areas of study led him to recognize patterns in and across these fields, and his sensitivity to such patterns helped guide his inquiry and render it a connected enterprise. This paper examines several of Smith’s discrete inquiries in the history of astronomy, language, moral philosophy, and political economy, to show how he employed the techniques of pattern detection that he practiced in each of these inquiries to the task of generating new insights into new fields of inquiry. In so doing, Smith not only distinguished himself as an early practitioner of what we today identify with PPE, but he also provides a useful point of reference for those doing PPE today.

In this essay, I defend a theory of liability to defensive force. The theory contains two elements. The first is a dual Lockean-inspired condition. The second aims to make this first condition consistent with problems arising from uncertainty. Drawing on recent work by Michael Zimmerman, I argue that the rights-based condition should be made sensitive to the evidence available to defenders.

My purpose in this essay is to give an account of the kind of robust social criticism that I associate with the very enterprise of theory and to explain why the liberal philosophy that prevails in the contemporary academy is averse to this sort of social criticism. My purpose, then, is both to explore a certain conception of radical socialtheory and to defend this conception against familiar objections posed by those who represent the dominant liberal political philosophy.

It is often claimed that libertarianism offers an unattractive conception of free will and moral responsibility because it renders free agency inexplicable and irrational. This essay aims, first, to show that the soundness of these objections turns on more basic disagreements concerning the ideals of free agency and, second, to develop and motivate a truly libertarian conception of the ideals of free agency. The central contention of the essay is that the heart of libertarians’ ideal of free agency is the ideal of agential fundamentality.

One of the main targets of Progressive constitutional critique was the system of separation of powers. Woodrow Wilson was especially critical of that feature of American constitutionalism. As has been noted by others, Wilson wanted to replace the separation of powers with the conceptual and institutional distinction between politics and administration. Wilson, however, had an extremely truncated and on the whole inaccurate view of the point and intended operation of separation of powers, as an examination of the doctrine in the philosophy of John Locke demonstrates.

Suppose the prevailing distribution of property rights is unjust as determined by the relevant conception of distributive justice. You have far more than you should have under that theory and I have far less. Then I defraud you and in doing so reallocate resources so that our holdings ex post more closely approximate what distributive justice requires. Do I have a duty to return the property to you?

There are many good reasons for requiring me to return to you what I have taken. One is that while you may have no right in justice to all that you own, it does not follow that I do, or that I have a right to take it. Thus, requiring me to return the property to you is a way of recognizing that I had no right to take it from you in the first place.

The title of this article has been chosen deliberately, for we find interesting parallels in the careers and outlooks of Alexis de Tocqueville and the great Prussian theorist of war, Carl von Clausewitz whose master work, On War, remains sui generis. They overlapped in time (Tocqueville lived from 1805 to 1859, Clausewitz from 1780 to 1831), but, more importantly, their major theoretical works dealt in large measure with the same problem – the democratic revolution and its impact on politics. As Clausewitz argued, the warfare of the new era was

caused by the new political conditions which die French Revolution created both in France and in Europe as a whole, conditions that set in motion new means and new forces, and have thus made possible a degree of energy in war diat odierwise would have been inconceivable.

It follows that the transformation of the art of war resulted from the transformation of politics.

Western visitors to those parts of the world that before 1991 were politically organized as the Soviet Union have been impressed by the attitudes of persons toward behavior in ordinary exchanges, attitudes that seem to be so different from those in Western economies. The essential elements of an “exchange culture” seem to be missing, and this absence, in itself, may be central to the effective functioning of market economies. Individual participants in ordinary exchange relationships in Western economies act as if they understand the simplest of all economic principles, namely, that there are mutual gains from trade, that the benefits are reciprocal, that exchange is a positive-sum game. This “as if” understanding, which remains perhaps below our level of consciousness in the West, is largely missing from the public attitudes of citizens of the former Soviet Union, who behave as if the gains from trade do not exist, or at least are one-sided rather than mutual.

Perhaps no technological innovation has so dominated the second half of the twentieth century as has the introduction of the programmable computer. It is quite difficult if not impossible to imagine how contemporary affairs—in business and science, communications and transportation, governmental and military activities, for example—could be conducted without the use of computing machines, whose principal contribution has been to relieve us of the necessity for certain kinds of mental exertion. The computer revolution has reduced our mental labors by means of these machines, just as the Industrial Revolution reduced our physical labor by means of other machines.

Reflection on the variety of forms of social life has long been a source of moral skepticism. The thought that there are many radically different social systems, each of which colors the way its members think about moral and political questions, has been thought by many moral philosophers to undermine confidence in our belief that our way of looking at-or even posing-these questions is the correct one. The fact of cultural variety is held to reduce, if not eliminate altogether, the possibility of moral criticism of the practices of other societies. This thought is not a recent one; it is implicit, for example, in an observation made in David Hume's “A Dialogue,” when he writes:

There are no manners so innocent or reasonable, but may be rendered odious or ridiculous, if measured by a standard, unknown to the persons; especially, if you employ a little art or eloquence, in aggravating some circumstances, and extenuating others, as best suits the purpose of your discourse.

I. Beyond Utilitarianism

In the summer of 1982, I published an article called “Missiles and Morals,” in which I argued on utilitarian grounds that nuclear deterrence in its present form is not morally justifiable. The argument of “Missiles and Morals” compared the most likely sort of nuclear war to develop under nuclear deterrence (DET) with the most likely sort of nuclear war to develop under American unilateral nuclear disaramament (UND). For a variety of reasons, I claimed diat the number of casualties in a two-sided nuclear war developing under DET would be at least fifteen times greater than the number of casualties in a one-sided nuclear attack developing under UND. If one assumes that human lives lost or saved is the principal criterion by which nuclear weapons policies should be measured, it follows that DET is morally superior to UND on utilitarian grounds only if the chance of a two-sided nuclear war under DET is more than fifteen times less dian the chance of a one-sided nuclear attack under UND. Since I did not believe that the chance of nuclear war under deterrence is fifteen times less than the chance of nuclear war under unilateral nuclear disarmament, I inferred diat utilitaranism failed to justify DET. Indeed, on utilitarian grounds, DET stood condemned.

Many philosophers have discussed problems of additive aggregation across lives. In this article, I suggest that anti-additive aggregationist principles sometimes apply within lives, as well as between lives, and hence that we should reject a widely accepted conception of individual self-interest. The article has eight sections. Section I is introductory. Section II offers a general account of aggregation. Section III presents two examples of problems of additive aggregation across lives: Derek Parfit's Repugnant Conclusion, and my Lollipops for Life CaseSection IV suggests that many may have misdiagnosed the source and scope of anti-additive aggregationist considerations, due to the influence of Rawls's and Nozick's claims about the separateness of individuals. Accordingly, many leave Sidgwick's conception of self-interest—which incorporates an additive aggregationist approach to valuing individual lives—unchallenged. Section V suggests that the separateness of individuals may have led some to conflate the issues of compensation and moral balancing. Section VI argues that an additive aggregationist approach is often deeply implausible for determining the overall value of a life. Section VII discusses a Single Life Repugnant Conclusion, first considered by McTaggart. Section VIII concludes with a summary, and a brief indication of work remaining.

A more provocative subject than “lying in politics” is difficult to imagine. Everybody, from the proverbial “Joe Sixpack” to ivory-tower philosophers, can wax eloquently on the subject, if only because easy-to-find, shocking (and occasionally sexually “juicy”) examples abound. If moral outrage were judged an essential vitamin, then condemning dishonesty undoubtedly guarantees a daily megadose. Unfortunately, at least for those who crave self-indulgent outrage, the anti-lying case is less than 100 percent compelling. It is a quagmire of the first order, if only because those who cherish frankness also usually confess to lying. Hannah Arendt once suggested that lies are a necessary and justifiable tool of the statesman's trade. Formulating damnation criteria invites mind-boggling paradoxes, and strident defenders of truth-telling, with scant exception, admit that falsehoods are “sometimes” permitted for “good” reasons. And what might be these “good reasons”? Who can say for sure? Centuries of erudite scholarship on this point might be encapsulated as “Lying to me is bad, but I can consent to deceiving others for noble purposes, as artfully decided by myself.”

Freedom of association holds an uneasy place in the pantheon of liberal freedoms. Whereas freedom of association and the abundant plurality of groups that accompany it have been embraced by modern and contemporary liberals, this was not always the case. Unlike more canonical freedoms of speech, press, property, petition, assembly, and religious conscience, the freedom of association was rarely extolled by classical liberal thinkers in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. Indeed Thomas Hobbes, David Hume, Adam Smith, and others seem to have regarded freedom of association with some trepidation because of the violent, irrational, and factional behavior of groups. This chapter illuminates these anti-associational assumptions in the writings of James Madison. Although Madison famously deplored political associations as sources of faction and civil dissension, he differed from other members of the Founding generation in his willingness to defend associational freedom. Madison's writings also shed light on the unenumerated status of the freedom of association in American constitutional law.

I examine from a conventionalist perspective the Nash bargaining problem that philosophers use as a tool for analyzing fair division. From this perspective, the solutions to bargaining problems are conventions that can emerge from inductive learning and focal point effects. I contrast the conventionalist approach to analyzing the bargaining problem with the better-known rational choice approach, which I criticize for having overly demanding epistemic presuppositions and for producing disappointing results. I apply a simple model of inductive learning to specific bargaining problems to show that agents can learn from repeated experience to follow a variety of bargaining conventions in a given problem. I conclude that such agents can come to regard two such conventions as focal for the bargaining problem, one that assigns claimants equal shares of a good and another egalitarian solution of equal payoff gains, and that the egalitarian solution tends to prevail when these two solutions differ. I conclude further that the above analysis lends support for admitting interpersonal utility comparisons into the analysis of fair division problems, and also suggests a focal point explanation of the wide acceptance of the Aristotelian proportionality principle of distributive justice.