Adam Smith's adaptation of the classical tradition of moral philosophy constitutes an important attempt to shape the language of the virtues to the conditions of commercial society. An overlooked avenue to understanding his enterprise is his analysis of the practice of daily conversation, both as a medium of moral knowledge and as a source of the sorts of virtues possible in commercial society. In his attempt to answer the challenge of egoistic, “licentious” philosophers such as Bernard Mandeville—whose notion of “private vices, public benefits” typified the then-fashionable argument that modern society is held together not by virtues, but by the mutual satisfaction of interests—Smith drew on a combination of natural law theory and Scottish sociology to fashion a conception of moderate virtue that could harmonize prudence and benevolence, as well as the “masculine” virtues of self-command and the “feminine” virtues of humanity, in ways consonant with the character of daily interactions in a modern society.

Scholars disagree about whether or not there was a break between Hobbes's earlier, humanistic period and his later, scientific period. This article contends that, when judged on the epistemological level, Hobbes broke with his humanist past by exchanging the probability of the humanists' rhetorical epistemology for the certainty of scientific knowledge. Hobbes believed that only certainty could shield against the anarchy of civil war. Hobbes's rejection of the humanists' epistemology had practical consequences for the issue of religious toleration. The humanists, like the ancient rhetoricians, turned to consensus as the criterion of truth. By relying on consensus, the humanists were able to reduce the area of intolerance; only those beliefs on which there existed a broad-based agreement of the Christian faithful were viewed as essential. Hobbes's rejection of the humanists' epistemology, which included their concept of consensus, also entailed his rejection of their particular defense of toleration. Nevertheless, since Hobbesian political theory is, in principle, neutral on the question of toleration, there is nothing in the logic of Hobbes's argument that would preclude a greater degree of toleration, based on the sovereign's prudential assessment of existing circumstances.

The concept of the General Will has been criticized as being either tyrannical or empirically unattainable. From a social choice perspective, Riker (1982) and others have merged the substance of both perspectives. The new argument maintains that Arrow's Theorem and similar impossibility results imply that the General Will is both dangerous and “intellectually absurd.” While not denying the relevance of the collective choice literature, it is argued that such apocalyptic conclusions are premature.

The article discusses prudential liberalism: the attempt to develop classical liberal ideas upon the basis of purely prudential argument. It is argued, with particular reference to Narveson, that the universalism of classical liberalism cannot be sustained on such a basis. This faces the proponents of prudential liberalism with a problem: to reject universalism (and especially in light of the sort of example discussed in this article) would require a stronger case for rejecting our more ordinary ideas of morality than has yet been made; but if universalism is restored by recourse to nonprudential argument, prudentialism seems incoherent. In either case, the defense of their position against such criticisms would seem to lead prudential liberals away from the technical work upon which they are often engaged, and instead require them to participate in more traditional philosophical argument.

American political history is often conceived as a series of stable eras, controlled by dominant party coalitions and demarcated by realigning elections, most often identified as those of 1828, 1860, 1896, and 1932. Since there is a lag in the corresponding reconstitution of the Supreme Court, it is often deemed a countermajoritarian drag on the workings of electoral democracy. An examination of judicial review in relation to political eras shows that view to be correct only in the New Deal era. Judicial review most commonly occurs within eras rather than across them, with a Court reconstituted by the prevailing coalition negating legislation passed by that coalition. This reality significantly alters the normative question of the Court's role in a democracy, and it raises questions about the concept of stable eras. The current trend of political party dealignment calls into question the continuing validity of the critical-elections approach.

Defining judicial independence as the ability of courts to make decisions in the short term without regard for the preferences of officeholders, this article empirically examines the conditions under which judicial independence is and is not likely to be found. Nine periods of intense congressional hostility to the Supreme Court are identified and Court reactions are chartered along a continuum from pure independence to total subservience. Examination of the historical record highlights five key factors related to independence and shows that judicial independence existed in only three of the periods. In the remaining six periods, the Court either refrained from hearing certain cases, issued opinions more in line with congressional preferences, or reversed itself. The article rejects the hypothesis of judicial independence, concluding that in times of congressional opposition to the Court, only under special conditions identified in the analysis will it retain its independence.

The founding editors of The Review were at one in proclaiming that their journal was devoted to the philosophical and historical approach to political realities. The labors and fads of half a century have made the motto suspect for the arrogant simplicity of its common sense. One may, nevertheless, ask: what do you call that which is there? Or is reality like Gertrude Stein's Oakland, with no “there” there? And are our words the conveyances of nothing but emotional sounds?

The article explores the issue of economic life within the theoretical tradition of the common good. To clarify the implications of the theory of the common good for economics, the economic philosophy of Yves R. Simon is presented. After clarifying the meaning of Simon's conception of the common good, the implications of the common good for Simon's economic thought are explored. It is argued that, for Simon, the economic system is a common good that undergirds the traditional Thomistic imperative that the use of goods be common. Some of the difficulties which Simon's thought has for market economics are then analyzed, and Simon's thought is used to suggest solutions. In this context, the roles of authority and virtue (particularly prudence) are treated.

Despite its centrality to his work, Marx never offered a systematic analysis of the concept of class, leaving his interpreters to distill its meaning from his historical writings. Marx's usage of the term gave rise to a controversy over the respective roles played by objective conditions and subjective experiences in his definition of class. In one view, Marx defined class exclusively in structural terms by reference to the position of its members within the economy; in another, he incorporated their cultural traditions and consciousness into his definition of class. This article assesses this debate in light of Marx's studies of the nineteenth century French peasantry. Although one of the passages most often cited to illustrate Marx's notion of class concerns the peasants, his writings on the peasantry have received scant attention. I shall argue that these writings recommend against the structural reading in favor of the view that Marx assigned equal weight to objective and subjective determinations in his conception of class.

It has recently been argued in this Review that public opinion research tends to favor the expert authority of elite institutions such as the courts, over the democratic authority of the people as a source of law or constitutional interpretation. In this article we introduce an alternative survey construction that allows the public to be considered as a possible source of constitutional knowledge Using this survey, we find that most respondents can clearly articulate their position on the constitutionality of abortion, and offer and recognize reasons to ground both support and opposition to their position. We argue that these findings suggest that further work with alternative survey constructions may more firmly establish public knowledge in constitutional debates, thereby forming the basis to reclaim a democratic constitutional politics.

This article distinguishes between a competitive individualist process-oriented vision of equality and an egalitarian results-oriented vision of equality, and examines the changing relationship between these visions of equality in the American past. What is “exceptional” about the United States is not, as is often claimed, that it lacked a tradition of equal results but that those who favored equalizing results believed that equal process was a sufficient condition for realizing equal results. This study contends that these rival visions of equality, once believed to be mutually supportive, have become increasingly divorced in 20th century America.

At the turn of the century, American higher educational institutions were rapidly divesting themselves of their religious content and functions. The conscious attempt of the University of Illinois to separate itself from its fifty years of vaguely Protestant Christianity was representative of this process, which was, in fact, the final chapter in the gradual secularization of the higher learning that had prevailed in the Western European tradition for some eight hundred years. Fully to understand these developments entails a historical analysis of the complex and dialectical cultural and political changes that brought them about, including a critical definition of secularization as a way of thinking and as a social-political program. The practical problem, it is argued, is located in the post-Reformation tendency to confuse an institution of higher learning with a local church, the Yale experience furnishing an instructive example of this confusion. The result was a religious demand the university could not meet and a corresponding withdrawal of religion to a merely pastoral and psychological strategy in place of its former substantive intellectual role. Thanks to the “Kantian defense,” neither orthodoxy nor the new liberal Christianity (which might have been seen as a candidate to replace it in academe) any longer needed the university, both having retired to a safer autonomy. The resulting dilemma, that to be religious hampers learning, and that to be learned entails at least religious neutrality if not its complete abandonment, persists in present day conflicts over the role of religion in our educational institutions at all levels.

Two dominant characteristics of President Lyndon Johnson's political style were (1) openness to diverse views and information and (2) extreme secrecy surrounding the advisory process. The two characteristics were in tension, but inextricably linked and served serious purposes: openness brought Johnson policy proposals and political analyses from diverse, credible sources, while secrecy kept his options open until the moment of presidential decision and improved the chances of turning proposals into government policy. I reject characterological analyses which over-emphasize sub-rational causes of Johnson's inclination to secrecy and which contend that he was closed off from diverse advice. The roots of Johnson's style resemble those of post-World War II pluralists, who (like LBJ) were influenced by Franklin Roosevelt's presidency. They and Johnson saw presidents facing a deadlocked democracy and heading an unresponsive executive branch, thus only political skillful and assertive presidents could overcome that dilemma.

Neorealism has recently been portrayed as an attempt to systematize the insights of classical realism in order to put them on a more solid theoretical foundation. This essay rejects this common characterization of the emergence of neorealism by arguing that neorealism constitutes a fundamentally different conceptualization of international politics than that provided by classical realists. Neorealism is best understood as an alternative to classical realism shaped by enduring liberal traditions in the United States, which is where neorealism emerged and thrives.

Sandra Day O'Connor, the first woman on the United States Supreme Court, has been criticized by some for failing to bring a woman's perspective to the Court, and by others for acting too much like the stereotypical woman who cannot make up her mind. Both criticisms overlook the possibility that O'Connor's impact as a female is derived from the fact that she is promulgating a very specific jurisprudence—that of the feminine. However, it is in employing this jurisprudence that she undermines the potential for both a feminist jurisprudence and for a cohesive conservative bloc on the Court.

In their 1983 pastoral letter on war and peace, the Catholic bishops attempted to sway American public opinion against the arms race. Polling data suggest that The Challenge of Peace stimulated a sharp but short-lived reaction against military spending among American Catholics. The message was best received by Catholics strongly tied to their church, reversing a historical correlation between religiosity and nationalism. The pastoral must be judged relatively successful in its mission, particularly in light of the many barriers to attitude change. Greater sensitivity to those obstacles could enhance the success of future efforts at persuasive communication by church authorities.

This article challenges the view that Aristotle's Poetics provides a defense against Plato's assault on poetry. I argue that Aristotle's discussion of poetry is at least as critical of the poetic depiction of the city and the gods as is the Platonic account. In the Poetics Aristotle does break with Plato in order to establish poetry's independence from philosophy. Aristotle's account of poetry as an independent activity should not, however, be read as a defense of poetry against Plato's subordination of poetry to philosophy. Instead, it is argued that Aristotle establishes poetry's independence from philosophy as a corrective to Plato's resort to poetry, thereby establishing that philosophy is completely autonomous from poetry.