Philip Pettit

A new approach to sentencing Not Just Deserts inaugurates a radical shift in the research agenda of criminology. The authors attack currently fashionable retributivist theories of punishment, arguing that the criminal justice system is so integrated that sentencing policy has to be considered in the system-wide context. They offer a comprehensive theory of criminal justice which draws on a philosophical view of the good and the right, and which points the way to practical intervention in the real world of incremental reform. They put the case for a criminal justice system which maximizes freedom in the old republican sense of the term, and which they call `dominion'.

The recent debates about the nature of social freedom, understood in a broadly negative way, have generated three main views of the topic: these represent freedom respectively as non-limitation, non-interference and non-domination. The participants in these debates often go different ways, however, because they address different topics under common names, not because they hold different intuitions on common topics. Social freedom is sometimes understood as option-freedom, sometimes as agency-freedom and the different directions taken by the theories can often be explained by their addressing freedom in one sense, then in another. The non-limitation approach focuses primarily on option-freedom, the non-domination approach on agencyfreedom, whereas the representation of freedom as non-interference seems to spring from a failure to resolve the focus decisively on one target or another.

Philosophy invariably starts with the attempt to spell out ideas and beliefs that we already hold, whether on topics like time or causality, colour or value, consciousness or free will, democracy or justice or freedom. It may go well beyond such pre-philosophical assumptions in its further developments, regimenting them in unexpected ways, revising them on novel lines, even discarding them entirely in favour of other views. But philosophy always begins with the articulation of ordinary ideas and beliefs. This is where its ladder starts. As the name suggests, articulation requires that the ideas and beliefs articulated were already there waiting to be spelled out, and that identifying them is a matter of analysing..

The rationality of individual agents is secured for the most part by their make-up or design. Some agents, however – in particular, human beings – rely on the intentional exercise of thinking or reasoning in order to promote their rationality further; this is the activity that is classically exemplified in Rodin’s sculpture of Le Penseur. Do group agents have to rely on reasoning in order to maintain a rational profile? Recent results in the theory of judgment aggregation show that under a range of plausible conditions they do. In a slogan: group agents are made, not born.

Allan Gibbard’s strategy in his new book is to begin by describing a psychology of thinking and planning that certain agents might instantiate, then to argue that this psychology involves an ‘expressivism’ about thought that bears on what to do, and, finally, to try to show that ascribing that same psychology to human beings would explain the way we deploy various concepts in practical and normative deliberation. The idea is to construct an imaginary normative psychology, purportedly conforming to expressivist specifications, and then to campaign for the hypothesis that that psychology is ours and that we ourselves conform to those specifications. The upshot is an original and intriguing argument for the claim that ‘expressivism’, as Gibbard understands it, is sound. There is more in the book than that bare argument. Filling out the strategy pursued, for example, the volume contains useful discussions of a number of current debates (chs 2, 12), an enlightening argument that the strategy survives the introduction of the notion that a concept can have a character distinct from its content (ch. 6), and an extended set of reflections on how far the point of view defended leaves room for the idea of gaining normative knowledge (pt. 4). But I shall ignore those aspects of the book in this commentary; the focus is on its central argument. My approach will be to reconstuct the main stages in the Aufbau of our normative psychology that Gibbard provides, emphasizing some crucial points that are passed over rather quickly, and then to suggest on the basis of this reconstruction that the more natural lesson to derive is not an expressivist one. Although I break with Gibbard in that way, however, I have great admiration for the book. Thinking How to Live is a sharp, fresh and invigorating treatment of the main issues of metaethics.

‘By political thcory," ]0hn Plamcnatz wrote, "I d0 not mean explanations of how governments function; I mean systematic thinking about the purposes of govcrnmcnt."l Political theory is a normative disciplinc, designed t0 let us evaluate rather than explain; in this it resembles moral or ethical theory. What distinguishes it among normative disciplines is that it is designed to facilitate in particular the evaluation of government or, if that is something more general, the statc.2 We are to identify the purposes of govcrnmcnt—morc strictly, the proper purposes of govcmmcnt—s0 that we can decide on the best political arrangements for society. I work with Plamcnatz’s definition in this book. The readings 0{Tcrcd here are all in one way or another relevant to the normative analysis of the state. I stress this point at the outset as readers interested in explanatory political thcory—thc sort of theory that ideally informs empirical research on the statc—may otherwise bc disappointed with what I provide. If such readers know at the beginning what they are getting, than they will have no reason later to complain. Indeed they may even bc pleasantly surprised, when they discover that normative political theory, as the essays in this volume represent it—pa.rticula.rly..

I want to sound a warning note and suggest some changes that are needed in the practice of ethical review. It is easy to assume that with a policy as high-minded as the policy of reviewing research on human beings, the only difficulties will be the obstacles put in its way by recalcitrant and unreformed paries: by the special-interest groups affected. But this is not always true of high-minded policies and it is not true, in particular, of the policy of reviewing research. Ethical review is endangering valuable research on human beings and, moreover, it is endangering the very ethic that is needed to govern that research. And this is not anyone's fault, least of all the fault of any special-interest groups. The problem is that the process of ethical review has been driven by an institutional dynamic that is not in anyone's control and this dynamic is now driving us, willy nilly, on to some very stony ground. My argument is developed in four sections. In the next section, section two, I look at a model of policy-making which identifies a reactive, institutional dynamic that lies at the origin of certain policy intitiatives. In the third section I argue that this model fits the appearance and development of the ethical review of human research, showing how the process of review has been motored by a dynamic of step-by-step reaction to chilling tales of abuse. In the fourth section I look at the predictions of the future development of ethical review that the extrapolation of that model yields. And then in the fifth and..