Avery Kolers

Social movements are ubiquitous in political life. But what are they? What makes someone a member of a social movement, or some action an instance of movement activity? Are social movements compatible with democracy? Are they required for it? And how should individuals respond to movement calls to action? Philosophers have had much to say on issues impinging on social movements but much less to say on social movements as such. The current article provides a philosophical overview of social movements. To do so it canvasses contemporary work on the nature of shared agency and collective action, social epistemology, democratic theory, and the theory of individual responsibility for structural injustice. The article finds that contemporary analytic philosophy has considerable work to do if it is to account for the nature, epistemology, ethics, and politics of social movements. There may be more things in the streets than are dreamt of in our philosophy.

Solidarity is a significant but poorly understood feature of political life. It is typically conceived, in “associative and teleological” terms, as working together for common political aims. But this conception misses the fact that solidarity requires individuals to will collective ends despite incompletely shared interests. Careful consideration of these elements reveals four “dynamics of solidarity”: its characteristic duties, the durability of commitments made in solidarity, the deference it involves, and its effects over time on agents’ habits and capacities. In this article I describe these dynamics, first contrasting solidarity-given duties with duties of beneficence, justice, and loyalty. These contrasts lay bare the distinctive durability of solidarity, which differs from both the liberal’s commitment to justice and the loyalist’s commitment to the group. I then discuss deference, a feature of solidarity that has implications for individual engagement in political life more generally. Finally, I discuss the effects of solidarity on agents’ intellectual and physical capacities. I conclude by drawing out implications of these dynamics, challenging Tommie Shelby’s influential conception and justification of black solidarity and buttressing Philip Soper’s rejection of the Principle of Autonomy.

Conscientious refusal is distinguished by its peculiar attitude towards the obligations that the objector refuses: the objector accepts the authority of the institution in general, but claims a right of conscience to refuse some particular directive. An adequate ethics of conscientious objection will, then, require an account of the institutional obligations that the objector claims a right to refuse. Yet such an account must avoid two extremes: ‘anarchism,’ where obligations apply only insofar as they match individual conscience; and ‘totalitarianism,’ where even immoral obligations bind us. The challenge is to explain institutional obligations in such a way that an agent can be obligated to act against conscience, yet can object if the institution's orders go too far. Standard accounts of institutional obligations rely on individual autonomy, expressed through consent. This paper rejects the Consent model; a better understanding of institutional obligations emerges from reflecting on the intersecting goods produced by institutions and the intersecting autonomy of numerous distinct agents rather than only one. The paper defends ‘Professionalism’ as a grounding of professional obligations. The professional context can justify acting against conscience but more often that context partly shapes the professional conscience. Yet Professionalism avoids totalitarianism by distinguishing between (mere) injustice and abuse. When institutions are – or we conscientiously believe them to be – merely unjust, their directives still obligate us; when they are abusive, however, they do not. Finally, the paper applies these results to the problem of conscientious refusal in general and specifically to controversial reproduction cases

Recognising and responding to injustices that benefit us is a pervasive problem of contemporary life, and arguably a mark of moral seriousness in anyone who presumes to take moral stands at all. In response, a number of authors have defended the view that such benefits normally bring with them prima facie obligations of compensation. This ‘wrongful-benefits’ approach has considerable intuitive plausibility, much of it founded in the financial metaphor that gives it an appearance of precision. Yet while the compensation scenario works reasonably well in one-off cases such as receiving stolen property, it yields incoherent results when facing ongoing structural injustices. In such cases ‘innocence’ is ambiguous and our status as beneficiaries and victims is complex. In contrast, solidarity — understood as a principle of equity requiring that we side with the least well off — provides a better account of duties to respond to structural injustice. In solidarity the agent follows the lead of organised out-groups and defers to their judgment about collective actions to overcome injustice. Solidarity leads us to support the organised group that suffers from the greatest inequity. Solidarity does not use a financial metaphor and thus it neither requires full disgorgement, nor absolves us of further action when we reach the point of net-zero benefit. Rather, solidarity is a principal means for ordinary citizens to promote equity by affirming the equal status of the victims, and to atone for having benefited from injustice, whether they did so willingly or otherwise.

Territorial disputes have defined modern politics, but political theorists and philosophers have said little about how to resolve such disputes fairly. Is it even possible to do so? If historical attachments or divine promises are decisive, it may not be. More significant than these largely subjective claims are the ways in which people interact with land over time. Building from this insight, Avery Kolers evaluates existing political theories and develops an attractive alternative. He presents a novel link between political legitimacy and environmental stewardship, and applies these ideas in an extended and balanced discussion of the Israeli-Palestinian dispute. The result is the first systematic normative theory of territory, and an impressive example of applied philosophy. In addition to political theorists and philosophers, scholars and students of sociology, international relations, and human geography will find this book rewarding, as will anyone with wider interests in territory and justice.

Ethical investing is all the rage. Unfortunately, excitement about it has outpaced plausible philosophical discussions. This article asks and answers two questions: “What counts as investment?”, and “What moral choices do investors have?”. I answer the first question broadly. Investment is pervasive in our economy, and by participating we share responsibility for corporate practices. These facts lead to an “austere conclusion”: short of outright withdrawal from the standard forms of investment, we have little hope of avoiding participation in immoral activities. Thus we must withdraw. Fortunately, the answer to the second question mitigates this disturbing result. Under certain circumstances, shareholder activism aimed at moral goals is a valuable way to participate in a deeply flawed system. By demonstrating the pervasiveness of investment and analogies with consumption and democratic political participation, the conclusions of this paper illuminate not only the ethics of investment but a more-general problem of individual responsibility in complex institutions. The paper is informative both for its applicability to these latter questions, and for its demonstration that investment is not merely a side-topic for business ethics texts, but rather a central problem of modern market societies.