Annabelle Lever

Kate Phelan's defense of feminism as a movement exclusively concerned with sex‐based oppression rests on two interlocking moves: a sharp division between women as women and women as members of other oppressed groups, and a “sex‐right” framework that is supposed to entail an abolitionist conclusion about prostitution. This reply argues that both moves fail, and that they fail together. The attempt to isolate sex‐based oppression as a separable object of feminist concern proves unstable once the intersectional constitution of women's oppression is acknowledged: the characteristics that make sex‐based oppression recognizable as such cannot be cleanly separated from class, race, and other axes of domination. The same instability undermines Phelan's sex‐right argument: the inference from the existence of prostitution to the persistence of unconditional male entitlement does not hold once rape has been criminalized and sexual access has been made legally conditional on consent. The line‐drawing to which Phelan attributes such importance is, in the end, both theoretically imprecise and politically unnecessary for the ends she wishes feminism to pursue.

This article reviews two contrasting books on lottocracy that came out in 2024 – Alexander Guerrero's, Lottocracy: Democracy Without Elections and Cristina Lafont and Nadia Urbinati's The Lottocratic Mentality; Defending Democracy Against Lottocracy. Both are valuable additions to contemporary democratic theory's increasingly lively debates about the best way to conceptualise and institutionalise representative democracy. The review highlights the innovations that Guerrero brings to the presentation of lottocracy, and their implications for executive as well as legislative government, but questions his attachment to microcosmic representation as a regulative political ideal. Although sympathetic to Lafont and Urbinati's critique of lottocracy, it casts doubt on their claim that lottocrats must confuse democracy and technocracy and require ‘blind deference’ to the decisions of randomly selected assemblies. It also questions their confidence that we can readily distinguish the ‘auxiliary’ non-legislative forms of citizen assembly, which they favour, from the ‘lottocratic mentality’ they reject.

This special issue examines the implications of a commitment to democracy for the ethics of voting and for the capacity of elections to legitimise the exercise of political power. Although there is a substantial literature on the morality of abstention and the justification for compulsory voting/turnout, there is almost no systematic discussion of the interplay between electoral institutions and the behaviour of voters as moral and political agents. Our collection seeks to address this lack and to bring philosophical attention to the variety of conceptual, normative, and strategic questions involved in the practice of democratic voting.

Declining turnout rates and political disengagement have spurred many proposals to reform contemporary democracies. Some proposals aim at electoral participation, while others seek to create alternative non-voting forms of participation in politics. This article explores a third route, where elections are used to foster democratic non-voting engagement: that is, engagement in elections, but not as voters. We propose that society actively seek to engage citizens and resident non-citizens, who are either by choice or by law currently non-voters, to participate in the different administrative aspects of elections as poll workers. Our proposal concerns paid positions for which people volunteer, rather than unpaid positions into which people are drafted, whether they want to or not. Hence, this article proposes a novel form of electoral participation that is voluntary, open, and appropriate for those unable or not yet ready to vote.

This is a frustrating book: on the one hand, it promises a new outlook on the philosophy of privacy, based upon the work of Luciano Floridi and Baruch Spinoza, which is a welcome extension of the sources used to think about privacy in contemporary political philosophy; on the other hand, it virtually ignores the existing literature on the philosophy and law of privacy. As the presentation of the legal and philosophical issues tends to be schematic, it is quite difficult to know what the book offers by way of additions and corrections to the larger literature on privacy. The book has a bibliography after each chapter, which makes it hard to assess the sources overall, and to find references, unless you remember the chapter in which they occurred. This reinforces the sense that what is presented as a monograph is really a set of independent essays or lectures which, while individually interesting, do not give the reader a clearer sense of the way legal and philosophical issues about privacy fit together. [First paragraph]

This paper provides an overview of the ethical challenges facing voters in democratic elections. It starts by examining the assumptions that underpin contemporary claims about the moral and epistemic advantages of lotteries as compared to elections and shows their similarities to arguments for ‘unveiling the vote’, as Brennan and Pettit put it. (G. Brennan & Pettit, 1990) It looks at the empirical and normative difficulties of these claims and highlights the risk of confusing morally misguided voting with injustice, and of supposing that it must be politically consequential. Finally, the paper casts doubt on the claim that democracy implies that voters should be publicly accountable to each other for their vote and that the secret ballot is, therefore, a regrettable, if necessary, concession of principle to sad reality. It concludes by drawing out the implications of its analysis for the ethics of voting in ideal, non-ideal and highly non-ideal situations.

The ethics of voting is a new field of academic research, uniting debates in ethics and public policy, democratic theory and more empirical studies of politics. A central question in this emerging field is whether or not voters should be legally required to vote. This chapter examines different arguments on behalf of compulsory voting, arguing that these do not generally succeed, although compulsory voting might be justified in certain special cases. However, adequately specifying the forms of voluntary voting that are consistent with democratic norms is likely to be philosophically complex and politically controversial.

This paper looks at Alexander Guerrero’s epistemic case for ‘lottocracy’, or government by randomly selected citizen assemblies. It argues that Guerrero fails to show that citizen expertise is more likely to be elicited and brought to bear on democratic politics if we replace elections with random selection. However, randomly selected citizen assemblies can be valuable deliberative and participative additions to elected and appointed institutions even when citizens are not bearers of special knowledge or virtue individually or collectively.

Elections are generally considered the only way to create a democratic legislature where direct democracy is not an option. However, in recent years that assumption has been challenged by individuals who claim that lotteries are a democratic way of selecting people for office, elections are aristocratic or oligarchic, not democratic, and that elections as we know them are inadequate if true democracy is prioritized. In opposition to this wave, my paper argues that the assertions made to support the democratic merits of lotteries are unpersuasive. Current evidence that sortition is either more egalitarian or produces epistemically better results than elections is poor. Instead, these assertions illuminate the importance of elections in enabling the constituents of a democracy to reconcile the personal and political dimensions of their lives and, therefore, better reflect citizens’ claims to privacy and equality. The paper begins by recapping the main arguments for treating sortition as a democratic way to select a legislature, outlines their deficiencies, and then turns to what these perceived failings actually suggest about the democratic value of elections.

The aim of this paper is to explore the claim that lotteries are more democratic than elections. The paper starts by looking at the two main forms of equality that give lotteries their democratic appeal: an individually equal chance to be selected for office, and the proportionate representation of groups in the legislature. It shows that they cannot be jointly realized and argues that their egalitarian appeal is more apparent than real. Finally, the paper considers the democratic reasons to value randomly selected assemblies, even if claims about their distinctively egalitarian properties are exaggerated.

What does it mean to treat people as equals when the legacies of feudalism, religious persecution, authoritarian and oligarchic government have shaped the landscape within which we must construct something better? This question has come to dominate much constitutional practice as well as philosophical inquiry in the past 50 years. The combination of Second Wave Feminism with the continuing struggle for racial equality in the 1970s brought into sharp relief the variety of ways in which people can be treated unequally, while respecting the formalities of constitutional government. Most obviously, the content of laws can mistreat them by wrongfully assuming that they are either threats to others, or that, like children, they need to be protected from harm through paternalistic limitations on their freedom of action. Or, as those concerned with class inequality have long noted, formal equality can create legal requirements, permissions, and prohibitions whose burdens fall predictably, and often solely, on groups who are already marginalised, and most in need of state protection. (Kairys, David 1990) Above all, what these two great political movements made plain, is that a concern for group inequality and, specifically, group injustice must figure in the formulation and adjudication of individual rights, if legal protections for equality are adequately to combat the causes of inequality. Getting to grips with that challenge, it became obvious, required going beyond the familiar analyses of inequality inherited from Liberalism and Marxism, given the many different ways in which people can be equal or unequal.(Hackett and Haslanger 2006, 3 - 15) In the first part of this chapter, I will seek to illustrate these claims, by focusing on efforts to reframe the theory and practice of constitutional equality given demands for sexual and racial equality. I will then show that analytic philosophy has also come to recognise the various non-reducible dimensions of equality in ways that reinforce the claims of critical legal theory, even as philosophers highlight their disconcerting consequences. If equality has multiple irreducible dimensions, conflicts between the legitimate demands of equality are unavoidable features of law and politics, even in the best possible world, and are likely to be particularly painful when set against a background of historical injustice. The chapter concludes with the challenges to democratic constitutionalism, and the scope for constructive responses to those challenges, which the rapprochement between critical and analytic thinking on equality suggests.

This article develops an intuitive idea of proportionality as a placeholder for a substantive conception of equality, and contrasts it with Ripstein’s ideas, as presented in an annual guest lecture to the Society of Applied Philosophy in 2016. It uses a discussion of racial profiling to illustrate the conceptual and normative differences between the two. The brief conclusion spells out my concern that talk of ‘proportionality’, though often helpful and, sometimes, necessary for moral reasoning, can end up concealing, rather than illuminating, people’s claims to be treated as equals.

Les deux articles d’Eric Fassin, et la réponse de mon collègue Alain Policar, apportent intelligence et lucidité sur un sujet difficile, et un débat pénible que l’on peine à voir dans la polémique de Marianne (n° 1152,2-18 avril), ni malheureusement dans quelques articles sur ces sujets parus dans l’Obs. Pour une non-française, il n’est pas toujours facile de comprendre une lutte, plutôt qu’un ‘débat’, autour du mot ‘race’, qui semble spécifiquement française, mais où néanmoins les idées et textes américains (et parfois anglais) font partie du champ de bataille. J’espère que cette intervention, motivée par la critique de Fassin par Policar, peut être utile même si elle manque de l’élégance et de la maitrise du contexte intellectuel français.

Is public policy ethics possible and, if so, is it desirable? This twofold question can – and sometimes does — elicit a smile or a frown. The smile implies that ethical theorizing rests on a naïve idea of policy-making; the frown implies that there is something tasteless or incongruous in expecting philosophy to engage with problems of policy and with the political bargaining and compromise that policy-making often involves. These reactions – familiar to many working in this academic discipline – point to the ways in which ethics and public policy have been taken to be separate areas of practical concern and theoretical inquiry.

This brilliant and challenging book provides an overview and defence of 'luck egalitarianism', one that helpfully connects debates on luck egalitarianism to debates on what aspects of our lives egalitarians should try equalise (the 'equality of what?' debate/the debate on the 'metric' of equality) and on what respect, if any, it makes sense to see each other as equals. The book illuminates different conceptions of luck, as found in the philosophical literature, clarifies the difference between telic and deontic equality, and explains the 'levelling down' problem and the way that this affects luck egalitarians, and egalitarians more generally. For these reasons, the book provides a handy introduction to a range of philosophical debates about equality amongst analytic philosophers, whether or not one is particularly interested in luck egalitarianism. However, this is not an easy book to read, and while it is advertised as suitable for advanced undergraduates, I find it hard to imagine using it in any undergraduate course I have taught in the United States, England, France or Switzerland. But this is definitely a book that masters and doctoral students should be able to read by themselves and that will be helpful for teachers preparing classes on luck egalitarianism or on equality more generally.

This article argues that people have legitimate interests in privacy that deserve legal protection on democratic principles. It describes the right to privacy as a bundle of rights of solitude, intimacy and confidentiality and shows that, so described, people have legitimate interests in privacy. These interests are both personal and political, and provide the grounds for two different justifications of privacy rights. Though both are based on democratic concerns for the freedom and equality of individuals, these two justifications for privacy can be distinguished because the one is principally concerned with protecting the personal freedom and equality of individuals, while the other is principally concerned with their political equivalents. Feminists have often been ambivalent about legal protection for privacy, because privacy rights have, so often, protected the coercion and exploitation of women, and made it difficult to politicise personal forms of injustice. However, interpreting the content and justification of privacy rights in light of the differences between democratic and undemocratic forms of politics can enable us to meet these concerns, and to distinguish a democratic justification of privacy rights from the alternatives.

Does the wide distribution of political power in democracies, relative to other modes of government, result in better decisions? Specifically, do we have any reason to believe that they are better qualitatively – more reasoned, better supported by the available evidence, more deserving of support – than those which have been made by other means? In order to answer this question we examine the recent effort by Talisse and Misak to show that democracy is epistemically justified. Highlighting the strengths and weaknesses of their arguments, we conclude that the differences between an epistemic conception of democracy and an epistemic justification of democracy are fundamental to determining the relative attractions of different arguments for democracy, and their implications for actual forms of government.

Is there a human right to be governed democratically – and how should we approach such an issue philosophically? These are the questions raised by Joshua Cohen’s 2006 article, ‘Is There a Human Right to Democracy?’ – a paper over which I have agonised since I saw it in draft form, many years ago. I am still uncomfortable with its central claim, that while justice demands democratic government, the proper standard for human rights is something less. But, as I hope to show, the reasons for that discomfort are occasioned less by the thought that democracy may not be a human right than by the very significant gaps in our understanding of rights which debates about the human rights status of democracy exemplify.

this paper argues that people are entitled to keep some true facts about themselves to themselves, should they so wish, as a sign of respect for their moral and political status, and in order to protect themselves from being used as a public example in order to educate or to entertain other people. The “outing” - or non-consensual public disclosure - of people’s health records or status, or their sexual behaviour or orientation is usually unjustified, even when its consequences seem to be beneficial. Indeed, the paper claims, the reasons to reject outing, as inconsistent with democratic commitments to freedom and equality, are reasons to insist on the importance of privacy to freedom of expression. While a free press is of the utmost importance to democratic government, it is not identical with the free expression of individuals and, on occasion, the former may have to be constrained in order to protect the latter. [Barendt, 2007, 231]. Hence, the paper concludes, we should distinguish the claims of individuals to publish reports about their lives – even if this necessarily involves revealing the private lives of others – from journalistic claims to publish information about the sex lives of consenting adults. I will start by briefly situating my argument within a democratic approach to privacy, before using the “outing” of Oliver Sipple to examine people’s claims to privacy and their implications for freedom of expression and of the press. I will be assuming that some forms of privacy are legitimate, in order to focus more closely on the question of what information, if any, people may keep to themselves.

We live with the legacy of injustice, political as well as personal. Even if our governments are now democratically elected and governed, our societies are scarred by forms of power and privilege accrued from a time in which people’s race, sex, class and religion were grounds for denying them a role in government, or in the selection of those who governed them. What does that past imply for the treatment of religion in democratic states? The problem is particularly pressing once one accepts that religious freedom is not just a matter of individuals’ freedom of conscience and worship, but of people’s claims to associate with others through institutions whose powers, status and commitment to equality are very different (Laborde, 2015). If this means that churches pose some of the same philosophical and practical problems as families, from a democratic perspective, the fact that churches have no obvious point or justification, beyond being the repository of the claims to conscience of their members, appears to distinguish them from the former. In principle, this should make it easier to think about the claims of government, as compared to those of churches. In practice, however, it may simply bring into sharper focus philosophical and political challenges to equality that contemporary democracies now face.

This article is part of a symposium on property-owning democracy. In A Theory of Justice John Rawls argued that people in a just society would have rights to some forms of personal property, whatever the best way to organise the economy. Without being explicit about it, he also seems to have believed that protection for at least some forms of privacy are included in the Basic Liberties, to which all are entitled. Thus, Rawls assumes that people are entitled to form families, as well as personal associations which reflect their tastes as well as their beliefs and interests. He seems also to have assumed that people are entitled to seclude themselves, as well as to associate with others, and to keep some of their beliefs, knowledge, feelings and ideas to themselves, rather than having to share them with others. So, thinking of privacy as an amalgam of claims to seclusion, solitude, anonymity and intimate association, we can say that Rawls appears to include at least some forms of privacy in his account of the liberties protected by the first principle of justice. However, Rawls did not say very much about how he understands people’s claims to privacy, or how those claims relate to his ideas about property-ownership. This is unfortunate, because two familiar objections to privacy seem particularly pertinent to his conception of the basic liberties. The first was articulated with customary panache by Judith Thomson, in a famous article on the moral right to privacy, in which she argued that talk of a moral right to privacy is confused and confusing, because privacy rights are really just property rights in disguise. The second objection has long been a staple of leftist politics, and is that the association of privacy with private property means that privacy rights are just a mask for coercive and exploitative relationships, and therefore at odds with democratic freedom, equality and solidarity. If the first objection implies that Rawls is wrong to think that protection for privacy can be distinguished from protection of personal property, the second objection implies that Rawls cannot hope to protect privacy without thereby committing himself to the grossest forms of capitalist inequality. In this paper I will not discuss Rawls’ views of property-owning democracy. However, by clarifying the relationship between claims to privacy and claims to property-ownership, I hope to illuminate some of the conceptual, moral and political issues raised by Rawls’ ideas, and by work on the concept of a property-owning democracy, which he inspired. As we will see, privacy-based justifications of private ownership are not always unappealing, and privacy is sometimes promoted, rather than threatened, by collective ownership. The conclusion draws out the significance of these claims for the idea of a property-owning democracy.

What is the role of lay deliberation – if any – in health-care rationing, and administration more generally? Two potential answers are suggested by recent debates on the subject. The one, which I will call the technocratic answer, suggests that there is no distinctive role for lay participation once ordinary democratic politics have set the goals and priorities which reform should implement. Determining how best to achieve those ends, and then actually achieving them, this view suggests, is a matter for experts, armed with the best evidence available to them, both of the subject area involved, and of management and administrative excellence. By contrast, the second, deliberative, view holds that lay deliberation has an important role in the administration and execution of government policy, both because these latter inevitably have a political element which needs to reflect democratic norms and values, and because lay people are, themselves, a source of information, even of wisdom, that experts will want to use in fulfilling their professional responsibilities. Recent debates on the value of lay participation in healthcare provision can illuminate the strengths and weaknesses of both approaches, as can the experience of NICE. So, I will start by examining two articles by Albert Weale, which attempt to clarify the role that lay deliberation should have in healthcare, before turning to the dilemmas for both the technocratic and deliberative views which emerge from the experience of NICE.

The new frontiers in the philosophy of intellectual property lie squarely in territories belonging to moral and political philosophy, as well as legal philosophy and philosophy of economics – or so this collection suggests. Those who wish to understand the nature and justification of intellectual property may now find themselves immersed in philosophical debates on the structure and relative merits of consequentialist and deontological moral theories, or disputes about the nature and value of privacy, or the relationship between national and global justice. Conversely, the theoretical and practical problems posed by intellectual property are increasingly relevant to bioethics and philosophy and public policy, as well as to more established areas of moral and political philosophy. Perhaps this is just to say that the philosophy of intellectual property is coming into its own as a distinct field of intellectual endeavour, providing a place where legal theorists and philosophers can have the sorts of discussions - neither reducible to questions about what the law is, nor wholly divorced from contemporary legal problems - which typify debates about freedom of expression, discrimination and human rights. These are all areas in which legal and philosophical ideas influence each other at the level of method as well as of substance. My hope is that this collection of essays will appeal to those who, whatever their professional specialty or training, share an interest in the philosophy of intellectual property, and that it will build upon and advance existing interdisciplinary dialogue and research in this complex, fascinating, and important area. Authors include John Christman, Stephen Munzer, Alex Rosenberg, Geert Demunijck, Laura Biron, James Wilson