I offer a defense of the moral side-constraints to which Robert Nozick appeals in Anarchy, State and Utopia but for which he fails to provide a sustained justification. I identify a line of anti-consequentialist argumentation which is present in Nozick and which, in the terminology of Samuel Scheffler, moves first to affirm a personal prerogative which allows the individual not to sacrifice herself for the sake of the best overall outcome and second moves on to affirm restrictions (i.e., moral side-constraints) which prohibit the individual from suppressing others' exercise of their personal prerogatives even if that suppression would serve the overall good. I argue that one ought to follow this line of anti-consequentialist argumentation all the way to the affirmation of restrictions by showing that the rationale for the adoption of the personal prerogative is not satisfied unless the accompanying restrictions are adopted as well.

Western ethics and law have been slow to come to conclusions about the right to choose the time and manner of one's death. However, policies, practices, and legal precedents have evolved quickly in the last quarter of the twentieth century, from the forgoing of respirators to the use of Do Not Resuscitate (DNR) orders, to the forgoing of all medical technologies (including hydration and nutrition), and now, in one U.S. state, to legalized physician-assisted suicide. The sweep of history—from the Quinlan case in New Jersey to legislation in Oregon that allows physician-assisted suicide—has been as rapid as it has been revolutionary.

This essay is part of a larger project exploring the extent to which the market paradigm might be usefully employed to explain and in some instances justify nonmarket institutions. The focus of the market paradigm in this essay is the relationship between the idea of a perfectly competitive market and aspects of both the rationality of political association and the theory of collective choice. In particular, this essay seeks to identify what connections, if any, exist between one kind of market account of the rationality of political association and one kind of market-based social choice rule. The market theory of political association I intend to discuss I call “market contractarianism,” and the collective choice rule whose relation to it I intend to explore is the unanimity rule. What, if anything, is the relationship between market contractarianism and the unanimity rule?

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.

The prospect of germ-line genetic engineering, the ability to engineer genetic changes that can be passed on to subsequent generations, raises a wide range of moral and public policy questions. One of the most provocative questions is, simply put: Are there moral reasons that can be articulated in general secular terms for accepting human nature as we find it? Or, at least in terms of general secular moral restraints, may we reshape human nature better to meet our own interests, as we define them? This question in turn raises the further question of whether human nature as it now exists has a moral standing akin to sacredness that can be understood in nonreligious terms. This essay will take as a given that it is not possible to show in general secular moral terms that human nature has a sanctity or special moral standing that should guide secular health-care policy. In addition, as this essay shows, it is not possible through appeals to considerations of authorizing consent or beneficence toward others to remedy this failure to establish a sanctity or special moral standing for human nature. Absent a religious or culturally normative understanding of human nature and given the availability of germline genetic engineering, there is a plurality of possibilities for refashioning our nature. The unavailability of substantive secular moral constraints on germ-line genetic engineering discloses a secularly licit plurality of possibilities for human nature. The likelihood that we will be able to refashion our human nature reveals how few general secular moral constraints there are to guide us. Paradoxically, the more we are able to reengineer our human nature, the less guidance is available. The plurality of possible conceptions of human well-being that can be pursued through germ-line genetic engineering challenges our self-understanding as humans. Given human freedom, and in the absence of taken-for-granted religious or cultural moral constraints, the likelihood of germ-line genetic engineering opens the possibility of human nature in the plural.

Those rights are human rights which, in Professor Gewirth's phrase, “all persons equally have simply insofar as they are human.” His task is to demonstrate that there are human rights, and to demonstrate that such demonstration is necessary to the very existence of these rights. “That human rights exist…is a proposition whose truth depends upon the possibility, in principle, of constructing a body of moral justificatory argument from which that proposition follows as a logical consequence.” As philosophers we should no doubt like to be able to prove the existence of human rights – prove that there are such rights in the event that the fool shall have said in his heart that there are none, even using his folly against him by showing his denial to entail its denial – but it is a bold claim that rights are things whose esse est demonstrari.

This essay defends the controversial and indeed counterintuitive claim that there is a good argument to be made from a Lockean perspective for government action to guarantee access to health care. The essay maintains that this argument is in some regards more robust than the well-known argument in defense of universal health care spelled out by Norman Daniels, which this essay also examines in some detail. Locke's view that government should protect people's lives, property, and freedom–where freedom is understood as independence and self-determination–justifies government action to ensure access to health care, because (roughly), just as individuals cannot protect themselves from crime and foreign invasion, so individuals are unable to provide for their own health care. Defense from disease is as important as defense from crime, and–although this is arguable–government action to guarantee access to health care does not itself undermine freedom.

The Rawlsian texts appear not to be consistent with regard to the status of the right of freedom of association. Interestingly, Rawls's early work omits mention of freedom of association as among the basic liberties, but in his later work he explicitly includes freedom of association as among the basic liberties. However, freedom of association would appear to have an economic component as well (e.g., the right to form a firm). If one turns to such “private ordering” (e.g., contract, partnership, and corporate law), we find a similar ambiguity in the Rawlsian texts, as well as sharp divisions in the contemporary literature on Rawlsianism. This ambiguity has engendered widespread confusion over the scope of the two principles of justice—leading to the contemporary dispute over the breadth of what Rawls calls the “basic structure” and the question of whether the principles of justice are properly understood to govern private ordering. There is significant disagreement over the breadth of Rawls's basic structure—one aspect is whether the principles of justice apply to the private law. In a controversial passage in Political Liberalism Rawls addresses this question. This passage has, however, led commentators to reach divergent conclusions. We argue that this disagreement is explained by an instructive confusion in the passage over the distinction between what we characterize as “pre-institutional” and “post-institutional” freedom (vis-á-vis contract and property). The passage, we argue, illicitly shifts from invoking the post-institutional sense of “freedom” to the pre-institutional sense, thereby causing significant though understandable disagreement. Rawls's lapse into the pre-institutional conception of “freedom” provides interpretive grounds for the narrow understanding of the basic structure. If Rawls, however, had invoked the sense of “freedom” to which he is entitled at this stage of his theory—the post-institutional conception—such disagreement need not have arisen.

This essay examines the far-reaching attack on individualism and property rights which characterized the Progressive Era of the early twentieth century. Scholars and political figures associated with Progressivism criticized the individualist values of classical liberalism and rejected the traditional notion of limited government espoused by the framers of the Constitution. They expressed great confidence in regulatory agencies, staffed by experts, to effectuate policy. Progressives paved the way for the later triumph of statist ideology with the New Deal in the 1930s.

The essay traces the sources of the Progressive antipathy to individual rights to the influence of Bismarck’s program in Imperial Germany and the Social Gospel theology. It gives attention to the views of leading Progressive intellectuals who stressed the perceived need for increased governmental power and governance by an educated elite. The essay also explores the impact of Progressivism on constitutional law, arguing that the rise of “sociological jurisprudence,” with its skepticism about courts and stress on judicial deference to legislative judgments, served to advance the Progressive political agenda. Progressives looked with disfavor on any constitutional doctrine which curtailed governmental authority. The Progressive movement left a lasting legacy of diminished regard for individualism and a jurisprudence which stripped property of muscular constitutional protection.

One new form of liberalism is a doctrine that might be called Constitutional Welfare Liberalism. It stands in some continuity with the varieties of welfare and equality oriented liberalism that emerged in the Nineteenth Century and which found expression in the U.S. in political movements like the New Deal of F.D.R. and the Great Society of L.B.J. Constitutional Welfare Liberalism differs somewhat from earlier versions of Welfare Liberalism in that it claims to be solidly grounded in the fundamentals of the liberal tradition and of the American Constitution. Advocates of Constitutional Welfare Liberalism would replace what they call the “negative-liberties model” of the Constitutional order with a “benefits model.” They rest their case on an analysis of rights that denies the meaningfulness of the common distinction between negative and positive rights. Some advocates of Constitutional Welfare Liberalism also base their claims on the positive empowerments and ends of government as expressed in the Preamble to the Constitution. It is shown here via an analysis of the negative/positive rights distinction that the distinction is indeed meaningful when understood more accurately than Constitutional Welfare Liberalism theorists do. Likewise it is shown that neither the general character of the Constitution as an empowerment of government, nor the particular goals stated in the Preamble imply the benefits model.

The Problem

Economic efficiency is naturally thought to be a virtue of social policies and decisions, and cost-benefit (CB) analysis is commonly regarded as a technique for measuring economic efficiency. It is not surprising, then, that CB analysis is so widely used in social policy analysis. However, there is a great deal of controversy about CB analysis, including controversy about its underlying philosophical rationale. The rationales that have been proposed fall into three basic, though not mutually exclusive categories. There are moralist views to the effect that an acceptable CB analysis would provide, or contribute to, an ethical appraisal of proposed policies or projects. There are rationalist views to the effect that an acceptable CB analysis would contribute to the selection of social policies and projects that are “socially rational.” Finally, there are so-called management science views to the effect that the purpose of CB analysis is to promote the achievement of objectives held by the policy maker, whatever they may be. Different positions are available within each of these categories. But there is also the possibility that CB analysis lacks any viable rationale. I will examine some of the major rationales for CB analysis in this paper, and I will suggest that the last view is close to the truth.

The social-welfare world of the poor has changed considerably since the turn of the century. It is not difficult to find dramatic evidence of progress. Most obviously, there has been a substantial reduction in the percentage of Americans who are poor. Even in 1929, about 40 percent of the population still lived in poverty. The corresponding figure for 1993 was 15.1 percent. The poor have also enjoyed notable material and physical gains in terms of income, diet, health, and housing conditions.

Political liberalism began in the eighteenth century with the effort to establish a secular state in which religious differences would be tolerated. If religious views include universal principles to apply to all by force if necessary, diverse religions must conflict, perhaps fatally. In a sense, then, political liberalism was an invention to resolve a then current, awful problem. Its proponents were articulate and finally persuasive. There have been many comparable social inventions, many of which have failed, as Communism, egalitarianism, and perhaps socialism have all failed to date. The extraordinary thing about political liberalism is that it seems to have succeeded in its authors' initial hope for it. It may have helped end the turmoil occasioned by religious differences. Political liberalism has since expanded in various ways under other influences, and, if it were not for Islamic fundamentalism with its seemingly coercive theocratic program, we might no longer today associate religious conflict with the core of liberalism in its actual practice.

The United States has never been culturally or religiously homogeneous, but its diversity has greatly increased over the last century. Although the U.S. was first a multicultural nation through conquest and enslavement, its present diversity is due equally to immigration. In this paper I try to explain the difference it makes for one area of thought and policy – equal opportunity – if we incorporate cultural and religious pluralism into our national self-image. Formulating and implementing a policy of equal opportunity is more difficult in diverse, pluralistic countries than it is in homogeneous ones. My focus is cultural and religious diversity in the United States, but my conclusions will apply to many other countries – including ones whose pluralism is found more in religion than in culture.

Measured inequality has increased tremendously between the 1960s and 1990s, not only in the United States but throughout the majority of industrial nations. Wages among people of the same race and gender have become less equal. The hours worked by men have fallen, and the drop has been more pronounced among those who earn lower wages—as a result, inequality in labor income, which is the product of the wage rate and hours worked, has increased relative to inequality in wage rates. Moreover, among married couples, employment of the wives of high-income men has increased until these wives are approximately as likely to be employed outside the home as are the wives of low-income men, who have always worked for wages. In addition, due to assortative mating, wage rates of husbands and wives are positively correlated, and it is clear that the growth in inequality of labor incomes among families has outstripped the growth in inequality in individual labor income. Finally, only the highest-income families have savings in excess of home equity and company-sponsored pensions, which implies that inequality in wealth among families has been exacerbated by the growth in stock prices.

It used to seem so simple. In the old days (the seventies and eighties of the last century), most political philosophers who were inclined to call themselves “egalitarian” thought that one or another version of this argument established at least the approximate truth about economic justice.

Is a government required or permitted to redistribute the gains and losses that differences in biological endowments generate? In particular, does the fact that individuals possess different biological endowments lead to unfair advantages within a market economy? These are questions on which some people are apt to have strong intuitions and ready arguments. Egalitarians may say yes and argue that as unearned, undeserved advantages and disadvantages, biological endowments are never fair, and that the market simply exacerbates these inequities. Libertarians may say no, holding that the possession of such endowments deprives no one of an entitlement and that any system but a market would deprive agents of the rights to their endowments. Biological endowments may well lead to advantages or disadvantages on their view, but not to unfair ones.

I do not have strong intuitions about answers to these questions, in part because I believe that they are questions of great difficulty. To begin, alternative answers rest on substantial assumptions in moral philosophy that seem insufficiently grounded. Moreover, the questions involve several problematical assumptions about the nature of biological endowments. Finally, I find the questions to be academic, in the pejorative sense of this term. For aside from a number of highly debilitating endowments, the overall moral significance of differences between people seems so small, so I interdependent and so hard to measure, that these differences really will 1 not enter into practical redistributive calculations, even if it is theoretically i permissible that they do so.

Before turning to a detailed discussion of biological endowments and their moral significance, I sketch my doubts about the fundamental moral theories that dictate either the impermissibility or the obligation to compensate for different biological endowments.

People have accidents. They get old. They eat too much. They have bad luck. And sooner or later, something will be fatal. It would be a better world if such things did not happen, but they do. There is no use arguing about it. What is worth arguing about is whether it makes for a better world when people have to pay for other people's misfortunes and mistakes rather than (or as well as) their own.

One dark and rainy night, Yuso sexually assaults and tortures Zelan. In escaping from the scene of his crime, he falls heavily and becomes an impotent paraplegic. Instead of treating his fate as divine retribution for his wicked acts, Yuso sees it as sheer bad luck. He shows no remorse for what he has done, and vainly hopes that he will recover his powers, which he now treats as involuntarily hoarded resources to be used on less rainy days. In the presence of others, he pretends that he has turned over a new leaf. He asks for religious and educational books, hoping (he tells everyone) to make up for his poor education and deprived social background. But he immediately discards them when he is alone in favor of the pornographic magazines which he has bribed a nurse to smuggle in for him. His deception and various obscene acts committed in the hospital are exposed; by the time he comes up for trial, everyone knows that he is still a lustful, sadistic, and unrepentant man.

Most retributivists have a sufficient justification for punishing Yuso independently of the social consequences of his punishment. Two features of the case might cause some difficulties. First, Yuso has already experienced considerable suffering and deprivation both before and after his crime, and retributivists might disagree about the relevance of the suffering to his punishment. Secondly, Yuso is unrepentant, and it is unlikely that punishment will change him. This might, as we shall see, create a problem for those who think that the justifying aim of punishment is the moral reform of the offender.