Joel Anderson

Autonomy is one of the most contested concepts in philosophy and psychology. Much of the disagreement centers on the form of reflexivity that one must have to count as genuinely self-governing. In this essay, we argue that an adequate account of autonomy must include a distinct requirement of accurate self-assessment, which has been largely ignored in the philosophical focus on agents' ability to evaluate the desirability of acting on certain impulses or values. In our view, being autonomous (i.e., self-guiding) involves understanding the extent to which one has the capacities required for one's intended actions. On both clinical grounds (drawn from cases of frontal brain injury) and conceptual grounds, we argue that one's autonomy is diminished to the extent to which one's ability to assess one's capacities is impaired.

From the outset, critical social theory has sought to diagnose people’s participation in their own oppression, by revealing the roots of irrational and self-undermining choices in the complex interplay between human nature, social structures, and cultural beliefs. As part of this project, Ideologiekritik has aimed to expose faulty conceptions of this interplay, so that the objectively pathological character of what people are “freely” choosing could come more clearly into view. The challenge, however, has always been to find a way of doing this without arrogantly assuming special access to what is good for people. And this danger of paternalism is one to which social theorists have all too often fallen prey. In this brief essay, I focus on contemporary instances of clearly self-defeating behavior in contexts of complex choices. I begin by discussing a recent attempt to diagnose and solve these failures of choices, namely the public policy recommendations of behavioral economist Richard Thaler and reform-minded legal theorist Cass Sunstein. Their influential “libertarian paternalist” approach is particularly interesting, both in what it includes (attention to the socially constructed nature of choice situations and the roots of the problems in human nature) and in what it leaves out (an understanding of the social construction of human nature and an adequate appreciation of the value of autonomy). After discussing it, I consider a broadly perfectionist alternative, to the effect that the problem lies in a failure to adequately appreciate the importance of developing autonomy. I then turn to sketching the outlines of a new approach, based on the concept of “autonomy gaps,” which approaches overly demanding policies in relational and action-theoretical terms. In the final section, I show how this provides the basis for an analysis both in terms of a critique of ideology and of social pathology.

What experimental game theorists may have demonstrated is not that people are systematically irrational but that human rationality is heavily scaffolded. Remove the scaffolding, and we do not do very well. People are able to get on because they “offload” an enormous amount of practical reasoning onto their environment. As a result, when they are put in novel or unfamiliar environments, they perform very poorly, even on apparently simple tasks. This observation is supported by recent empirically informed shifts in philosophy of mind toward a view of cognition as (to cite the current slogan) “embodied, embedded, enactive, extended.” Andy Clark and others have made a very plausible case for the idea that a proper assessment of human cognitive competence must include environmental components. To limit our attention to what lies within the skin-skull boundary is, in effect, to miss the big story on human rationality. Insofar as we are rational, it is often because of our ingenuity at developing “work-arounds” to the glitches in the fast-and-frugal heuristic problem-solving capabilities that natural selection has equipped us with. And these work-arounds often involve a detour through the environment (so-called offloading of cognitive burdens). When it comes to practical rationality, things are no different. Yet in many discussions of “the will,” there is still a tendency to put too much emphasis on what goes on inside the agent’s head. Our objective in this chapter is to articulate this conception of “the extended will” more clearly, using the strategies that people employ to overcome procrastination for the central set of examples. Procrastination, in our view, constitutes a particular type of self-control problem, one that is particularly amenable to philosophical reflection, not only because of the high volume of psychological research on the subject but also because of the large quantity of “self-help” literature in circulationa literature that provides an invaluable perspective on the everyday strategies that people use in order to defeat (or, better yet, circumvent) this type of self-defeating behavior pattern. In general, what we find is that the internalist bias that permeates discussions of the will gives rise to a set of practical recommendations that overemphasize changing the way one thinks about a task, while ignoring the much richer set of strategies that are available in the realm of environmental scaffolding. In the concluding section, we highlight some of the policy implications of this, particularly regarding social trends involving the dismantling of support structures.

The present book makes a particularly engaging case for a whole range of policy implications of behavioural economics. The rhetoric is highly compelling, and their approach is already having a significant impact. However, while the wider audience for whom the book is written may not be interested in the justification of the underlying principles, it is precisely the cracks in the foundations that pose the greatest threat to the project. For example, if Thaler and Sunstein are to have any chance of their 'libertarian paternalism' meriting ‘libertarian’ credentials, it is essential that the re-engineering of choice architecture not be guided by any particular political or moral agenda. Their claim here is that what makes a nudge beneficial is not that it steers people in the direction of behaviour that is objectively ‘good’ but rather in the direction of behaviour that they won’t regret. That said, there are a number of points where it is hard to shake the suspicion that Thaler and Sunstein help themselves rather conveniently to the idea that, if a person’s choices are largely a function of various framing effects, say, then overriding those choices violates no autonomy, since there was no autonomy there to be violated. In this review, I raise four concerns not adequately addressed in the book. (1) Thaler and Sunstein are misleading in their use of the term ‘paternalism’, which is standardly defined as a matter of interfering with a competent person’s choices out of a motivation to improve that person’s welfare. As Thaler and Sunstein use the term, however, it becomes equivalent to beneficence: when the government acts to improve people’s welfare by influencing choices in any way, according to them, it is engaging in paternalism. (2) Their appeal to the resistibility of nudges is a centrepiece of the account and particularly of its claim to be ‘libertarian’, but given what they themselves write about how effective nudges are and how poor we are at even noticing the influences to which we are subject, it is entirely unclear why we should expect nudges to be easily resisted. (3) Thaler and Sunstein generally align themselves with the perspective of planners who half-pose the presumptuously rhetorical question, ‘Who would really mind?’ But the question is not just whether people would object, if they were consulted. People also care about whether they are consulted and whether they understand the influences to which they are subject. Thaler and Sunstein advise choice architects against being secretive about nudges, but this espousal of principle, in a late chapter responding to objections, is not borne out by the discussion in the rest of the book, which focuses almost exclusively and rather effusively on the possibilities for channelling individuals’ choice-behaviour toward better outcomes. (4) Thaler and Sunstein tend to downplay alternative approaches to improving decision making that are perfectly compatible with the behavioural economics and social psychology discussed by Thaler and Sunstein, but less paternalistic. For example, there is a growing body of research on how to construct contexts of interpersonal deliberation to generate stable solutions to collective action problems, by improving people’s collective decision-making capacities, rather than subjecting them to nudges. More generally, one comes up with very different recommendations if one thinks of the problems to which nudges are supposed to be a solution not as a matter of human failings per se, but rather as a socially and historically contingent misfit between the decision-making capacities that particular policies and institutions require of individuals and the capacities that people actually have. Conceived in the latter way – in terms of what I have elsewhere dubbed ‘autonomy gaps’, it becomes an open question whether what is called for is a choice architecture that makes it easier to avoid regrettable decisions or, rather, various measures to improve individuals’ decision-making capacities, say, through education, ‘buddy’ arrangements, decision-making heuristics, etc.

Many discussions of love and the family treat issues of justice as something alien. On this view, concerns about whether one's family is internally just are in tension with the modes of interaction that are characteristic of loving families. In this essay, we challenge this widespread view. We argue that once justice becomes a shared family concern, its pursuit is compatible with loving familial relations. We examine four arguments for the thesis that a concern with justice is not at home within a loving family, and we explain why these arguments fail. We develop and defend an alternative conception of the justice-oriented loving family, arguing that justice can—and, for the sake of justice, should—be seen as a family value