Mark Tunick

Some critics of Mill understand him to advocate the forced assimilation of people he regards as uncivilized, and to defend toleration and the principle of liberty only for civilized people of the West. Examination of Mill’s social and political writings and practice while serving the British East India Company shows, instead, that Mill is a ‘tolerant imperialist’: Mill defends interference in India to promote the protection of legal rights, respect and toleration for conflicting viewpoints, and a commercial society that can cope with natural threats. He does not think the principle of liberty is waived for the uncivilized, or that the West should forcibly reshape them in its own monistic image. Mill’s tolerant imperialism reflects a tension between liberty and moral development that surfaces also when Mill thinks about the scope of government in civilized societies.

Edmund Burke characterizes the state as consecrated, or sacred. There is a sense in which Hegel, too, consecrates the state: Hegel says the state is based on religion and that to preserve the state, religion “must be carried into it, in buckets and bushels.” This paper discusses the sense in which Hegel’s state is consecrated by juxtaposing his views with Burke’s. Both Burke and Hegel reject the theory of the divine right of kings, while recognizing religion’s ability to connect people to a totality transcending their particular lives. But the similarities nearly end there. Burke sees religion as a tie that binds people and helps create an ethical community, at least in England; for Hegel religion does not have that function in a modern state. Where Burke thinks commitment to religion is a stabilizing influence, Hegel worries that religion can lead to fanaticism and destroy a state. Consequently, where Burke supports an establishment of religion, Hegel thinks church and state must remain separate. Both Burke and Hegel think the state must tolerate the free exercise of different religions, but Burke is unwilling for the state to tolerate atheists, who he regards as outlaws of the human race. But as Hegel sees the function of religion in a modern state as providing an answer to the existential question of how one’s existence has meaning given that it is inevitably extinguished, and if philosophy can also provide an answer to that question, Hegel’s consecrated state could be a home for atheists. The paper draws on, among other works, Hegel’s Rechtsphilosophie, Philosophy of Religion, Philosophy of History, early theological writings, and for Hegel’s views on state-sponsored religious education, the Nürnberg School Addresses and letters to Niethammer.

Thom Brooks criticizes utilitarian and retributive theories of punishment but argues that utilitarian and retributive goals can be incorporated into a coherent and unified theory of punitive restoration, according to which punishment is a means of reintegrating criminals into society and restoring rights. I point to some difficulties with Brooks’ criticisms of retributive and utilitarian theories, and argue that his theory of punitive restoration is not unified or coherent. I argue further that a theory attempting to capture the complex set of rules and behaviors that constitute the practice of legal punishment cannot persuasively be unified and coherent: legitimate features of the practice advance goals and promote values that in some cases conflict.

Retributivists are often thought to give 'deontological' theories of punishment, arguing that we should punish not for the beneficial consequences of doing so such as deterrence or incapacitation, but purely because justice demands it. Kant is often regarded as the paradigmatic retributivist. In some passages Kant does appear to give a deontological theory of punishment. For example, Kant insists that on an island where all the people were to leave the next day, forever dissolving and dispersing the community, the last murderer in jail would have to have his execution carried out before the diaspora--justice demands it. In other passages, however, Kant defends punishment by appealing to its beneficial consequences. For example, after supposing that one man on a life raft pushes the other off to save his own life, Kant says that the former man should not be legally punished "because that punishment would have to be death, and it would be an absurd law that threatened death to one who refuses to die voluntarily in a dangerous situation." In this passage Kant's reasoning is that state laws, by threatening us with sanctions, are intended to prevent us from violating rights--the point of these laws is to deter. A law that imposes a punishment that could not deter is an absurd law. I argue that while Kant rejects consequentialism in thinking about moral actions, he distinguishes law and morality, and in the sphere of law, an action we take is to be justified by appealing to the good it yields. The point of legal punishment is to deter violations of rights and protect us from a state of nature in which no one's freedom is assured. Kant's theory of legal (as opposed to moral) punishment is not deontological. Nevertheless we can characterize his consequentialist theory of legal punishment as retributive in some sense. The paper then considers how the passages about punishment in which Kant invokes consequentialist thinking can be reconciled with other passages where he insists on punishment regardless of the consequences.

In light of technology that may reveal the content of a person’s innermost thoughts, I address the question of whether there is a right to ‘brain privacy’—a right not to have one’s inner thoughts revealed to others–even if exposing these thoughts might be beneficial to society. I draw on a conception of privacy as the ability to control who has access to information about oneself and to an account that connects one’s interest in privacy to one’s interests in autonomy and associated reputational interests, and preserving one’s dignity. Focusing on the controversial case of Gilberto Valle, known as the ‘cannibal cop’, who faced legal punishment and moral reproach for deeply disturbing thoughts of doing violence to women, thoughts he claimed were mere fantasies, I argue that Valle has a right to brain privacy if he has a legitimate privacy interest that is not outweighed by competing societal interests in avoiding harm. Our weighing of competing privacy and societal interests will depend on the magnitude of the privacy interests in autonomy and dignity, and on how reliable the technology used to expose inner thoughts is in predicting future harmful behavior and identifying true threats.

Are there universally valid moral principles that dictate what's right regardless of what the consensus is within a particular society? Or are moral judgments culturally relative, ultimately dictated by conventions and practices which vary among societies? Practices and Principles takes up the debate between cultural relativists and universalists, and the related debate in political philosophy between communitarians and liberals, each of which has roots in an earlier debate between Kant and Hegel. Rejecting uncritical deference to social practice, I acknowledge the need for standards for judging existing practices; but, I argue, the fact that there are principles we can use to criticize practices does not mean we can ignore social practice when making ethical and legal judgments. While defending principled criticism,I show the important role social practices have both in selecting and applying principles. I show precisely how both principles and practices interact through three case studies: promises, contract law, and the fourth amendment issue of whether an expectation of privacy is reasonable. When we turn to particular instances of ethical and legal judging we find that it is appropriate sometimes to appeal to principles that seem foreign to a culture to criticize aspects of that culture, sometimes to appeal to principles immanent in a culture and its practices, sometimes to defer to expectations arising from practices without subjecting the practices to critical scrutiny. I reject simplifying dichotomies that force us to choose between either practices or principles, universalism or relativism, and liberalism or communitarianism.

The inability thesis holds that one’s culture determines behavior and can make one unable to comply with the law and therefore less deserving of punishment. Opponents of the thesis reject the view that humans are made physically unable to act certain ways by their cultural upbringing. The article seeks to help evaluate the inability thesis by pointing to a literature in cultural psychology and anthropology presenting empirical evidence of the influence of culture on behavior, and offering conceptual analysis of the concept of determinism and its connection to moral culpability. Without conceding that culture never determines behavior, I argue that opponents of the inability thesis err in drawing a moral implication from this premise. What matters in formulating moral judgments about punishment are not the possibility but the reasonability of complying with the law. Cultural influences may make an action reasonable that without similar cultural influences would be unreasonable.

This article addresses the question of whether an expectation of privacy is reasonable in the face of new technologies of surveillance, by developing a principle that best fits our intuitions. A "no sense enhancement" principle which would rule out searches using technologically sophisticated devices is rejected. The paper instead argues for the "mischance principle," which proscribes uses of technology that reveal what could not plausibly be discovered accidentally without the technology, subject to the proviso that searches that serve a great public good that clearly outweighs minimal intrusions upon privacy are permissible. Justifications of the principle are discussed, including reasons why we should use the principle and not rely solely on a utilitarian balancing test. The principle is applied to uses of aerial photography and heat-detection devices.

Hegel for the most part insists we support existing practices: they have endured, have socialized us, are our home. At times Hegel seems to demand conformity, to leave no room for dissent or disobedience. Hegel gives great weight to the authority of the state and of custom. But Hegel does not leave the individual confronted with an unjust state powerless. To Hegel, we are obligated to obey the law if we are at home in the state, if its practices, institutions and laws are rational, if the free will "comes into existence" in it. But on Hegel's view, if the practices, institutions and laws of the state are not rational, we are not obligated to comply with their demands. Few recognize that Hegel even allows for justified disobedience, let alone that he can tell us anything about the conditions under which disobedience is justified. This is partly attributable to the fact that important texts concerning Hegel's views have only recently been discovered and published. For example, in a passage from one of these texts, a set of notes of Hegel's lectures on political philosophy, Hegel declares that if my free will does not come into existence in the state, I have no corresponding duty to the state. My purpose is to articulate a distinctive Hegelian theory of justified disobedience, show how it differs both from the traditional understandings of Hegel's views and from contemporary approaches to the problem of justified disobedience, and briefly to point to some difficulties with Hegel's position that need to be worked out if it is to be a satisfactory alternative.

The Dispossessed has been described by political thinker Andre Gorz as 'The most striking description I know of the seductions—and snares—of self-managed communist or, in other words, anarchist society.' To date, however, the radical social, cultural, and political ramifications of Le Guin's multiple award-winning novel remain woefully under explored. Editors Laurence Davis and Peter Stillman right this state of affairs in the first ever collection of original essays devoted to Le Guin's novel. Among the topics covered in this wide-ranging, international and interdisciplinary collection are the anarchist, ecological, post-consumerist, temporal, revolutionary, and open-ended utopian politics of The Dispossessed. The book concludes with an essay by Le Guin written specially for this volume, in which she reassesses the novel in light of the development of her own thinking over the past 30 years.

To scholars of Western intellectual history Hegel is one of the most important of all political thinkers, but politicians and other "down-to-earth" persons see his speculative philosophy as far removed from their immediate concerns. Put off by his difficult terminology, many participants in practical politics may also believe that Hegel's idealism unduly legitimates the status quo. By examining his justification of legal punishment, this book introduces a Hegel quite different from these preconceptions: an acute critic of social practices. Mark Tunick draws on recently published but still untranslated lectures of Hegel's philosophy of right to take us to the core of Hegel's political thought. Hegel opposes radical criticism like that later offered by Marx, but, argues Tunick, he employs "immanent" criticism instead. For instance, Hegel claims that punishment is the criminal's right and makes the criminal free. From this standpoint, he defends specific features of the practice of punishment that accord with this retributive ideal and criticizes other features that contradict it. In a lucid account of what Hegel means by right and freedom, Tunick addresses Hegel specialists and those interested in criminal law, the interpretation of legal institutions and social practices, and justification from an immanent standpoint. Originally published in 1992. The Princeton Legacy Library uses the latest print-on-demand technology to again make available previously out-of-print books from the distinguished backlist of Princeton University Press. These paperback editions preserve the original texts of these important books while presenting them in durable paperback editions. The goal of the Princeton Legacy Library is to vastly increase access to the rich scholarly heritage found in the thousands of books published by Princeton University Press since its founding in 1905.

Is it always morally wrong to violate a law and in doing so does one necessarily act badly? I argue that whether in breaking a law one acts badly depends on considerations unique to the particular act of lawbreaking. The moral judgment in question is deeply contextual and cannot be settled by appeal to blanket moral rules such as that it is wrong to break (any) law. The argument is made by focusing on the example of a runner having to decide whether to disobey the law against trespass. If in trespassing one acts badly it is not because there is a prima facie moral obligation to obey law. Theories of political obligation which ground an obligation to obey law in the principles of fairness or gratitude or in consent all fail to provide a persuasive reason not to trespass given a particular fact situation. I argue that when it is morally wrong to trespass it is morally wrong not because one has broken the law, but because and insofar as one has violated reasonable expectations of privacy. Whether there is a reasonable expectation of privacy in one's property depends in part on the character of the property in question.

Does privacy--the condition of being invisible to public scrutiny--in so emphasizing individual rights, undermine community? One objection to privacy is that it is a license to engage in antisocial activity that undermines social norms. Another objection is that privacy encourages isolation and anonymity, also undermining community. Drawing on the political theory of Hegel, I argue that privacy can promote community. Some invasions of privacy can undermine a sort of autonomy essential for maintaining a community. I also discuss what we need to know before establishing whether privacy empirically promotes or undermines community.

Hegel thinks the state is so important to our identity that we should be willing to give our lives for it. He characterizes the state as our ethical "substance." It is sometimes inferred from this that he thinks members of a modern state form a tightly-knit, culturally and ethnically homogeneous community. A close reading of his texts shows, rather, that Hegel does not think they must be a "community," or of the same race or ethnicity, or speak the same language, or practice the same religion. I explore Hegel's view of the ties that bind members of a state, arguing that what he thinks members must share are social practices. I conclude by considering whether in his effort to forge a common identity Hegel resorts to ties too weak to justify the claims he makes about the state being our substance, something worth dying for.

I address the question, ‘Should a retributivist support an entrapment defense and if so, under what circumstances?’, by considering the culpability of entrapped defendants. An entrapment defense is invoked by defendants who claim they violated the law because they were enticed to crime by the police and would not otherwise have committed the crime. There are different rationales for the defense: people who are normally law abiding, and who are not predisposed to commit crimes, do not commit crimes merely when the opportunity is presented, without further coaxing—only criminals do—and so spending resources to entice and then punish such “false criminals” is wasteful from a utilitarian perspective. Several theorists assume retributivists must oppose the defense: entrapped defendants have broken the law and, according to one version of retributivism (Mabbott), this itself might warrant punishment; they are still culpable although they were enticed, because succumbing to temptation is no defense—there is no ‘private entrapment defense’; and to not punish the non-predisposed who are enticed to crime by government, while punishing those who are predisposed, is wrongly to assert that a person’s culpability hinges on their predisposition and wrongly to punish someone not for their present conduct but for their character or past actions. I explore some reasons why a retributivist can support an entrapment defense. First, entrapped defendants may be less culpable than the privately enticed insofar as they do not cause harm. As police control the situation, no actual harm is caused, and whether one actually causes harm may bear on one’s culpability; and if one’s predisposition was weak and required substantial police coaxing to be triggered, we might say that the police action and not the defendant caused the crime in the relevant sense. Second, applying Robert Nozick’s account of coercion in a novel way, I consider the argument that entrapped defendants may be less culpable insofar as their action was not fully voluntary, in that unlike in private enticement cases, they necessarily underestimate the probability of being caught before making their choice.

Hegel thinks the state is so important to our identity that we should be willing to give our lives for it. He characterizes the state as our ethical "substance." It is sometimes inferred from this that he thinks members of a modern state form a tightly-knit, culturally and ethnically homogeneous community. A close reading of his texts shows, rather, that Hegel does not think they must be a "community," or of the same race or ethnicity, or speak the same language, or practice the same religion. I explore Hegel's view of the ties that bind members of a state, arguing that what he thinks members must share are social practices. I conclude by considering whether in his effort to forge a common identity Hegel resorts to ties too weak to justify the claims he makes about the state being our substance, something worth dying for.

The natural duty theory holds that "we have a natural duty to support the laws and institutions of a just state" (Jeremy Waldron). We owe this not because we ever promised to support these laws and institutions, nor because fair play requires we support the cooperative ventures from which we receive benefits. The claim is that we have a general duty to promote institutions that do something justice requires wherever these institutions may be, a duty that does not depend on our having special ties to these institutions, special ties of the sort we have to the institutions of our own government. I argue that we do not need to appeal to the idea of a natural duty to justify compliance with many laws. For example, New Zealanders must not murder, rape, or steal while in France, not because they have a duty to obey laws of a just state, but because it is wrong to murder, rape, or steal. If the natural duty theory is taken to be a statement of the conditions necessary for an obligation to exist, it would wrongly conclude there is no duty to obey laws against murder or rape in a state whose institutions and laws are not just. A second class of laws reflect not moral judgments but, rather, local conventions, conventions that are morally arbitrary but which may be useful in coordinating action. For example, New Zealanders visiting France must drive on the right side of the road, as dictated by French convention. Here, too, the natural duty theory fails to provide a suitable account of the relation noncitizens have to such laws. Our reasons for driving on the right side of the road when this is accepted convention have nothing to do with the justice of the institutions of the state. To flout this convention is not to undermine justice since there is nothing just or unjust about driving on one side of the road or another. I question the advantages of the natural duty theory, especially in light of important ambiguities in the theory.

Recent legal opinions and scholarly works invoke the political philosophy of John Locke, and his claim that there is a natural right of self-defense, to support the view that the 2nd Amendment’s right to bear arms is so fundamental that no state may disarm the people. I challenge this use of Locke. For Locke, we have a right of self-defense in a state of nature. But once we join society we no longer may take whatever measures that seem reasonable to us to defend ourselves: we are bound to the law duly enacted according to the original Constitution to which we consented. For Locke, how best to avoid dissolution of government and preserve individual liberty is for the people to judge collectively, unconstrained by natural proscriptions on gun regulations, limited only by the demands that government not be arbitrary and that it serve the public good.