Douglas Husak

Medical ethicists debate whether or not the moral assessment of cases of euthanasia should depend on whether the patient is 'killed' or 'allowed to die'. The usual presupposition is that a clear distinction between killing and letting die can be drawn so that this substantive question is not begged. I contend that the categorisation of cases of instances of killing rather than as instances of letting die depends in part on a prior moral assessment of the case. Hence is it trivially rather than substantively true that the distinction has moral significance. But even if a morally neutral (ie non-question begging) distinction could be drawn, its application to the euthanasia controversy is problematic. I illustrate the difficulties of employing this distinction to reach moral conclusions by critically discussing Philippa Foot's recent treatment of euthanasia. I conclude that even if an act of euthanasia is an instance of killing, and there exists a prima facie moral duty not to kill, and no more stringent duty overrides this duty, one still cannot determine such an act to be morally impermissible

Do non-persons have moral rights? I will suppose this question can best be answered by inquiring whether some animals and/or environmental objects have moral rights, for if any non-persons are possessors of rights, animals and/or environmental objects are the most plausible candidates. As so interpreted, this question has received an extraordinary amount of recent attention from philosophers. Arguments have been offered and defended; rebuttals have appeared in print. Yet, so far as I am aware, no one has presented a clear and accurate statement of what turns on the issue of whether non-persons have moral rights. In the absence of such a statement, philosophers are likely to be at sea in determining on which side of the controversy their initial sympathies lie. In this paper it is my central concern to help clarify what turns on the issue of whether non-persons are possessors of moral rights, rather than to argue decisively for one position or the other.

I examine how deferred-prosecution agreements employed against suspected corporate criminality amount to a form of social engineering that infringes the presumption. I begin with a broad understanding of the presumption itself. Then I offer a brief description of how these agreements function. Finally I address some of the normative issues that must be confronted if legal philosophers who hold retributivist views on punishment and sentencing hope to assess this device. My judgment tends to be favorable. More importantly, I caution against the facile assumption that any means to infringe the presumption is necessarily an illegitimate part of penal practice

I tackle the difficult problem of specifying how voluntary intoxication affects criminal culpability generally and recklessness in particular. I contend that the problem need not be conceptualized as an instance of actio libera in causa, namely the situation in which persons do something at t1 to culpably create the conditions of their own defense at t2. Instead, I argue that we need only consider intoxicated defendants at t2 in order to justify their punishment. In the course of defending my view, I challenge conventional wisdom about both the nature of recklessness and the effects of intoxicants. I conclude by discussing a possible ground on which involuntary intoxication might be treated differently

Our drug policy has been widely deemed a failure because the criminalization of drug use has not succeeded in reducing prevalence rates. I contend that the most promising basis to defend the justifiability of drug offenses is to construe them as proxy crimes: offenses designed to prevent the commission of other, more serious crimes. I make a case that many law enforcement officials use drug proscriptions for this purpose in the real world. When construed as proxy crimes, drug prohibitions are less vulnerable to some of the familiar objections brought against their legitimacy. Nonetheless, the justification for punishing those who violate drug proscriptions remains unpersuasive.

This important book was the first serious work of philosophy to address the question: Do adults have a moral right to use drugs for recreational purposes? Many critics of the 'war on drugs' denounce law enforcement as counterproductive and ineffective. Douglas Husak argues that the 'war on drugs' violates the moral rights of adults who want to use drugs for pleasure, and that criminal laws against such use are incompatible with moral rights. This is not a polemical tract but a scrupulously argued work of philosophy that takes full account of all available data concerning drug use in the United States today. The author is careful to describe the properties a recreational drug would have to possess before the state would be justified in prohibiting it. Since criminal laws against the use of recreational drugs are justified neither by the harm users cause to themselves nor by the harm users cause to each other, Professor Husak concludes that such laws are, in almost all cases, unjustified

I focus on the set of problems that arise in identifying both the actus reus and (to an even greater extent) the mens rea needed by an abettor before she should be criminally liable for complicity in a crime. No consensus on these issues has emerged in positive law; commentators are enormously dissatisfied with the decisions courts have reached; and critics disagree radically about what reforms should be implemented to rectify this state of affairs. I explicitly deny that I will be able to solve these problems, although I hope at least to identify a central source of the confusion. In my view, the problem results largely from conceptualizing the liability of abettors as derivative. This diagnosis helps us to understand why the problem is likely to remain insoluble in positive law. If the test of an adequate theory consists primarily in its ability to produce results that conform to our moral intuitions about how particular cases should be resolved, no approach that can be implemented in the real world will prove wholly satisfactory. I advance a hypothesis about why failure is inevitable and what should be done in light of this predicament. Legal realities compel us to adopt a position that is suboptimal from a moral point of view

In this article I examine one condition a minimalist theory of criminalization might contain: the criminal law should be used only as a last resort. I discuss how this principle should be interpreted and the reasons we have to accept it. I conclude that a theory of criminalization should probably include the (appropriately construed) last resort principle. But this conclusion will prove disappointing to those who hope to employ this principle to bring about fundamental reform in the substantive criminal law. I argue that the last resort principle may not help to reverse the growth of the criminal law to any degree that could not be achieved more directly and less controversially by other principles that a theory of criminalization is generally thought to include. Unless we reject others parts of conventional wisdom about crime and punishment, the application of a last resort principle is unlikely to bring about sweeping changes that theorists might have anticipated